


Stealing Tomorrow

by Shadowblayze



Series: Trading Yesterday 'Verse [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-14 00:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowblayze/pseuds/Shadowblayze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Curse is broken, but that's only the beginning! With a new self-proclaimed, unrepentantly meddling older sister, Harry's new adventures are sure to be anything but boring!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

In the Giglio Nero Main House in Marsala, Sicily, Italy there was a woman who was plotting deviously. 

The setting was beautiful.  There was a large mansion with many people bustling about, laughing and joking and living, with the waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea lapping at the shore a short distance away.

On the highest balcony of the mansion, overlooking the well-maintained grounds and with a rather fetching view of the aforementioned Sea, resided Aria, the twenty-one year old Ninth Boss of the Giglio Nero Famiglia.

 _Yes, I believe that a November wedding shall do nicely_.  She thought happily, giggling contentedly to herself as she flicked through the wedding planning guide in front of her.

Gamma, her fiancé and bodyguard, stood off to the side and sportingly rolled his eyes as his fiancé plotted.

“Hm, Gamma.”  Aria said lightly, lowering her wedding planner and locking eyes with her intended, “Should I invite my little brother as a guest or should I make him a bridesmaid.”

“I don’t think that he’d appreciate the bridesmaid dresses, Aria darling.”  Gamma replied, amused.

Aria pouted.  “But it would be so much fun to watch people’s reactions!  Think of the rumors it could inspire!”

“I think that is _why_ he’d not appreciate them.  From what you’ve seen, he marries a woman, if I’m recalling correctly.”

“You’re no _fun,_ Gamma!”  Aria whined playfully, sticking her tongue out at the blonde.  “So that’s how he ends up!  That’s no reason not to mess with everyone a little!  Think of the fun!”

Gamma quirked a blonde brow.  “Most men would not appreciate that sort of speculation.”

“Bah!”  Aria said dismissively.  “Harry’s special.  He’ll enjoy the mass confusion and misunderstandings!”

“Whatever you say, darling.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Harry stared at the letter blankly.  “ _What_?”  He said bemusedly.

Reborn, who was reading the letter over his shoulder, chuckled lowly.  “Looks like you’ll have to cut back on the deserts if you want to looks good in that dress.”  He said.

“You’re an asshole.”  Harry said offhandedly, shoving Reborn’s head off his shoulder and ignoring the way the man laughed evilly.

“What’s going on?”  Verde asked from where he was seated in an armchair.

“Aria has invited her ‘little brother’ to her wedding.  As a _bridesmaid_.”  Reborn informed everyone with a Cheshire grin.

Skull doubled over with laughter.

Harry turned his hair a florid pink color.

Skull squawked in offended outrage.

Harry ignored him.

“Why is calling Harry her ‘little brother’?”  Lal asked as she entered the Living Room.

“The Pacifier blocked him from Aria’s sight.”  Reborn explained as he sat on one of the couches.  “Now that the Curse has been broken, she can see him- _and us,_ for that matter.  Since she feels grateful for Harry not only breaking the Curse, but for taking up the Sky Pacifier to begin with, she’s decided that he’s her ‘little brother’.”

“Oh.”  Lal broke in with amusement.  “Well, far be it from _me_ to interfere with _sibling bonding_.”  She said casually as she sauntered further into the room and seated herself in the loveseat.

Harry scowled at the female Rain.  “You just want to tell Colonnello.”

“Yep!”  Lal agreed cheerfully.

“I’m _surrounded_ by _traitors_.”  Harry wailed dramatically, dropping on top of Skull who was sprawled out on one of the couches.

“Oomph.  _Gerroff_!”  Skull complained.  “And change the Great and Glorious Skull-sama’s hair back!”

Harry pretended to think while he tried to make Skull as uncomfortable as possible.  “Are you sorry for laughing at me?”

“ _Hell no_!”

“Then I’m not changing your hair back.”  Harry said, bouncing a bit and ignoring Skull’s whines of displeasure as he did so.

Ignoring the squabbling of Harry and Skull, Reborn continued.  “Since our Harry has _zero_ desire to be involved with the Mafia, Aria’s designation of him as a sibling gives him an excuse to know us without being put under too much scrutiny.”

“Ah.”  Verde responded in understanding.  “She’s providing him with protection without actually involving him directly, then.”

“Indeed.”  Reborn replied, with an affirmative nod in Verde’s direction.  “Being affiliated with the Giglio Nero gives him a measure of protection without actually tying him down.”

“’He’ is right here.”  Harry pointed out dryly, rolling off of Skull and settling into a comfortable position on the floor.  “And I’m not wearing a dress.”

A bullet whizzed past Harry’s head, causing the boy to yelp.  “The hell, Lal!?”

Lal holstered her weapon with a smug grin.  “You were saying?”

“I’m a guy!  A guy who likes girls!”

“Your point?”

“Come on Harry, you’ll look adorabl- _ow, ow_!  Not the piercings, dammit!”  Skull frantically batted Harry’s hands away from his tender flesh.

“Besides.”  Reborn said serenely.  “We have to make sure that you’re too busy to plot anything.”

Harry gave him a weird look, “Why?”

“Because your last plot involved breaking the Curse and going off to die alone.”  Skull mentioned dryly. 

“You’re not allowed to plot without someone responsible nearby.”  Reborn agreed seriously.  “Ever.”

“Amen.”  The rest of the former Arcobaleno chorused flatly.

Harry pouted.  “It worked didn’t it?”  He grumbled, only to yelp as Skull twisted his ear sharply.  “ _Owowowowow_ -“

“Repeat after me!”  Skull said cheerfully.  “I will not plot without someone responsible nearby.”

“Neve- _ow_!  _Alright_!  Alright!”  Harry squeaked in surrender as Skull twisted his ear more.  “ _Iwillnotplotwithoutsomeoneresponsiblynearby!_   Sheesh.  Happy now?”

“ _Ecstatic_.” Skull replied wryly.

“We should make him repeat that at least three times a day.”  Fon said as he entered the room and took a seat.  “Just to make sure it doesn’t _slip his mind_.”

“Nah, better make it _five_ times a day, kora!”  Colonnello said as he bounced into the room, taking a seat by Lal, who huffed in faux-disgruntlement.

The blush on her cheeks rather ruined the expression, however.

“Alright, aright!”  Harry said in exasperation, throwing his hands up in a dramatic gesture.  “No plotting.  I _get_ it.”

“No you don’t.”  Skull responded cheerfully.  “You’re just trying to make us shut up about it!”

“Is it working?”

“Nope!”

“ _Dammit_.”

“So, _about that dress_ ….”  Lal mentioned evilly.

Viper wandered into the room just as Lal said that.  “Oh?  _This_ I have to hear.”

Harry groaned miserably.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Harry tapped his pencil against the surface of his desk idly as he read over the equation again. 

 _I think I’m stuck_.  He reluctantly decided after a few more minutes of useless glaring.

Harry was currently taking the Arithmancy mock-exam that Reborn had put together for him and he was reasonably certain that the Hitman had made the difficulty level _ridiculous_ on purpose.

Harry thought fondly as he laid down his pencil and stretched languidly.

It had been about six months since the Arcobaleno Curse had been broken, and five months to the day from the ‘Battle of Hogwarts’.  The former Arcobaleno had matured a little, but Verde postulated that they were aging more akin to magicals than normal Flame users, and they’d likely have an extended lifespan as an after-effect of the Curse, despite the number of years that they’d spent in their Cursed forms.

Harry shook his head ruefully and grinned a little as he thought about his family.  Colonnello hadn’t been joking when he’d mentioned ‘ _enjoying his freedom’_ the night that they’d rescued Harry from Privet Drive.  Skull was _still_ crashing with Harry most nights and his FlamePhone received a text or a call from one of his family members at least every hour, it seemed.

The teen laughed a little as his gaze caught the picture of all of them standing on a glacier in Antarctica, bundled up in warm hats and scarves, and most importantly- near some penguins.

Reborn was glaring at Skull, who was sticking his tongue out at the other unrepentantly.  While Lal was flushed from more than just the cold as Colonnello kissed her cheek.  Viper had her hood down so he could see the smug expression on her face as she was holding out a palm expectantly towards Verde, who looked rather irked.  Fon was smiling widely from where he was crouched down beside an excited Harry who was beaming brightly and gesturing towards the penguins.  Sirius was crouched down on Harry’s other side and had his head thrown back with his mouth open in obvious laughter with one hand on Harry’s shoulder.  Marius stood to Sirius’ side and was shaking his head in amusement and had a small grin on his lips.

It was Harry’s favorite picture from the trip.  They were all stubborn, somewhat arrogant, independent individuals and they didn’t always get along with each other- but they were still _family_.

In the two months that they’d all spent together in the aftermath of the Curse and the Battle they’d decided that they were first and foremost Arcobaleno, and even though the Curse had been broken they would always be bound by that designation. 

They had taken a _great deal of pleasure_ in informing Harry that he was still their Sky and that he would _never_ be rid of them, and once he’d begun to heal he’d embraced his role wholeheartedly, unspeakably grateful for the opportunity to live a full life with his precious people.

Of course, he also wasn’t supposed to plot without _responsible supervision_.  Harry made a face.  Someone reminded him about that rule at least once a _day_.

Pertaining to his health, Harry hadn’t come out of the experience of being torn between three supernatural forces _entirely_ unscathed.  He still had bouts of sickness, but it was no longer a worsening condition- more akin to a chronic illness.  He would also most likely always be somewhat petite as an after-effect of the strain his body was under, but he could wear the special contacts that Verde had made him instead of glasses, so that was a bonus.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Aria really _was_ planning on making him wear a dress to her wedding.

Harry glanced down at the so-black-it-was-blue ring that decorated his left index finger and smiled softly.  Bermuda, while feeling no particular kinship to the other Arcobaleno, had informed Harry that the Vindice were only ever a call away and had presented Harry with the ring as a means to contact them.  The ring was a beautiful piece of jewelry, but still masculine enough to seem out of place on Harry’s hand- you know, when he _wasn’t being forced into women’s clothing._   It held an obsidian stone that seemed to radiate power, but Bermuda had just shrugged and said that the stone had been a gift when Harry had inquired about it.

Uncle Kawahira had also given Harry a way to contact him, surprisingly.  Harry was incredibly happy to have that option as he genuinely _liked_ Uncle Kawahira and was glad that he could still speak with the man on occasion.  Rings seemed to be a favored medium, and the beautifully carved silverish-blue ring rested on the middle finger of Harry’s right hand.

Not that the rings helped with making people realize he was male.  As a matter of fact, they served to make him seem _more_ androgynous most of the time.

Stupid slender fingers.

“Harry!”  Skull announced cheerfully as the Cloud bounced into the room and flopped onto one of the room’s couches.  “Are you done yet?”

“Pretty much.”  Harry admitted.  “Reborn is a _sadist_.”

Skull chuckled and cocked an eyebrow at the teen.  “You’re just _now_ figuring that out?”

“No.”  Harry parried cheerfully as he got up from the desk and flopped on the couch adjacent to the one Skull was on.  “But I felt like in needed to be noted again.”

“No arguments here.”  Skull muttered.  “Can you believe he’s going to be the full-time tutor of some poor kid?”

Harry shook his head in amusement.  “Nope.  Poor kid.”

“ _Exactly_.”

“So, are you still thinking about taking a cooking course in Italy?  You’re planning on staying there for the fall so you can get to know Aria and help her with the wedding stuff, right?”

“Yeah, I am- for the second part.”  Harry replied.  “I think that I might just find some Italian grannies who need some extra money to teach me, tough.  I’m not really interested in high-level cuisine so much as home-cooked food.”

“Makes sense.”  Skull said.  “Any other major plans?”

“Not really.”  Harry told him as he gazed at the ceiling.  “Sirius should be done in England by the New Year, so we’re going to do some traveling.  We’re thinking about backpacking across Europe for a while.  He’s sort-of made up with Remus.”

Skull scowled.  “I still don’t like that guy.”

Harry snorted.  “You can’t be mad at him forever, Skull.  He was only doing what he felt was necessary.”

The purple-haired teen kept his mouth shut, but he and the rest of the Arcobaleno would always dislike Remus Lupin for giving Dumbledore the item that was used to make the tether that exacerbated Harry’s condition.  They’d almost lost their Sky thanks to that jackass!

“I can hear you thinking all the way over here.”  Harry said dryly.

“Yeah, yeah,  shut up.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―


	2. Setting the Stage

Sirius Black was having a blast.

His Verdict had been relatively light.  If one could consider having spent a decade in Azkaban’s Maximum Security Wing instead of the five years in the Moderate Security Wing that his _actual crime_ \- that of Aggravated Attempt of Grievous Harm and Conspiracy to Infect a Minor With An Incurable Disorder- should have carried.

The ‘Aggravated Attempt of Grievous Harm’ was the charge he was levied with for jeopardizing Remus with that ‘prank’, while the ‘Conspiracy’ charge was for nearly getting Snape bitten and turned into a Werewolf.  There were other charges, but they were all minor in comparison and carried monetary fines.

Sirius had actually gotten off pretty lightly, all things considered, but that was sort of to be expected as his most severe crimes had been committed whilst he was still attending school, and therefore a juvenile.  His most severe crime as an _adult_ was that he had failed in his sworn Godfather-ly duties by not putting his Godson first that Halloween night, and so he was being ‘forced’ to work for the House of Potter as compensation.

Which was where the _fun_ part came into play.

The Tribunals had exacted vengeance not only through assigning prison time, but levying fines that were paid in money, land, or treasures.

Harry’s _great-great grandchildren_ would still be filthy rich off of all the money, not even considering the interest or investments or revenue from all of his new enterprises.

There were many properties that Harry now owned.  The boy was allowing the former owners to still reside in properties as long as they paid rent.  That wasn’t to say that the convicted criminals were all enjoying their former lifestyles, however.

The Vindice were nothing if not _thorough_. 

If a property owner was hit with a full penalty- that is to say that they lost everything, as was the case with anyone who tried to run- the Goblins were sent in to strip the property of all the material possessions.  If Harry decided to allow the former owners to live at the property, not only did they have to pay rent, they also had to pay to have any of their previous possessions returned to them.

Well, it was a little unfair to say that _Harry_ was in charge of the arrangements.  The Arcobaleno were acting in his stead, and they were being entirely _brutal_ about matters.  Viper, especially, was in her element as she made the magical population _pay through the nose_ to have their former belongings returned to them.

It was made _worse_ by Verde having access to new, previously unreachable libraries, as Harry had stated that the Arcobaleno’s wants came first.  So people like the Malfoys who wanted to buy back their library couldn’t, as Verde laid claim to those spoils.

Too bad, so sad.

It was vicious and somewhat cruel, but not _unfair_.

Of course, Viper was a financial genius, (she was making far too many Goblin friends), and the rest of the Arcobaleno were also forward-thinkers, so the Wizarding economy wasn’t going to collapse any time soon.  As a matter of fact, the House of Potter was being fairly generous in the time of need.

It should go without saying that the House of Potter officially had their fingers in just about every pie the wizarding world had to offer, not to mention being entrepreneurs into new business ventures.

For example, they had a Warded sanctuary for Werewolves to spend their full moons.  For free.  The hotel and cabins within a reasonable walking distance were, _coincidentally_ , owned by the House of Potter.  There were now blood-banks where the Vampires could buy their food that were open at night.  Even though Veela were not allowed to own property in Magical Britain, there was now shops that were being rented by Veela, allowing them to practice their crafts legally. 

And so on, and so forth.

Sirius had been helping oversee all of this and more.

One of the laws that the Purebloods had passed, (* _cough_ *Lucius Malfoy * _cough_ *), was that a convicted Lord could not be the Head of his House, it passed to the Lord’s most closely-related Peer if the Heirs were all underage.  (Meaning that the Head of House status passed to the most-closely related Lord.  Lucius had passed the law in the hopes of taking over the House of Black’s authority after Arcturus Black passed on.  Lucius couldn’t be Lord Black, but he could wield all the power that came with it until Draco came of age.) 

Harry, while underage, had the requirements needed for emancipation, which he applied for and was granted.  Therefore, he was the Head of House for pretty much every notable House in Magical Britain, and then some.

Yeah, Sirius Black was having _entirely too much fun_.

“I regret to inform you, Lord Malfoy, that the majority of the books which were seized from the Malfoy Library as part of you Verdict are not available for buyback.”  Sirius said in the most contrite tone he could muster.

It wasn’t very convincing.

“I see.”  Lucius Malfoy replied through his teeth.  “Thank you for your time, Adjutant Potter.”  He finished with a mocking lilt.

Sirius smiled sunnily, “Don’t mention it, Lord Malfoy!”  He waited until Lucius had opened the door to call out- _loudly_.  “Don’t forget that your rent is due on the twelfth!”

Lucius Malfoy snarled and slammed the door to the meeting room shut.

Yeah, _entirely too much fun_.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Harry was less-than-impressed and tried to convey this to Aria with the flat stare he was giving her.

…..it wasn’t working as well as he’d like, because the infernal woman just kept _giggling_.

Harry sighed and shook his head.  “You are insane, _Aria_ - _nee_.”

“Oooh!”  Aria said, straightening up and looking at Harry interestedly.  “Studying Japanese, are we?”

“Yeah.”  Harry replied, flopping into one of the overstuffed armchairs in Aria’s sitting room.  “I want to tour the Shrines and some of the abandoned attractions, but Fon says that it’ll be a lot easier for me if I speak the language.”  Harry paused and tilted his head as he considered his words.  “Well, not _easier_ , but it will make a better impression on the people who run the sites.”

Aria nodded and gracefully seated herself in the armchair opposite Harry.  “Hmm.  That’s true.  People, even if they don’t really appreciate foreigners, will at least be polite if you can prove you have a genuine interest in them and their crafts or traditions.”

The two were having a last-minute fitting before Aria’s wedding.  It was November, which meant lots of rain in Sicily, and Aria was embracing that theme wholeheartedly, as she _adored_ rainy weather.

The canopy for the ceremony was painted with rainbow swirls, which looked a little ostentatious in the sun but absolutely _breathtaking_ with the rain coming down on it.  Aria had planned everything to be bright splashes of vibrant color, interspersed with beige-toned crèmes to lighten the overall tone.  The mansion had been cleaned from top to bottom and the staff was running around hanging garlands of bright flowers everywhere in preparation for the ceremony tomorrow.

Aria also had made sure that the fish pools in the garden were stocked with vibrant fish, and the garden’s flowers had been soaked in special color-changing potions to make them all the colors of the rainbow.

In Harry’s personal opinion, Aria was having _far too much fun_ with the whole ‘Mare’ and ‘Arcobaleno’ theme she had going on.

That wasn’t what was currently annoying him, however.  Harry’s current disgruntlement was over the fact that after all the fittings the _insane woman_ had forced him into; he wasn’t _actually wearing a dress_.  The bridesmaid dresses were in muted, but complimentary, rainbow colors.  The dresses were slightly off the shoulder, but other than that they had each been customized for the body type of the lady who was going to be wearing it. 

Harry, he had just found out, had merely been Aria’s life-like mannequin during the fittings, and had never intended for him to actually wear the dress to the event.

Harry had endured _a ton_ of fittings.  Somehow he felt cheated.

Instead Harry was being forced into a rather sharp looking vest-and-tie combo, which Aria had cheerily informed him was called ‘Tuscany Candy Pink’.  The vest looked rather textured and the tie was striped with alternating shades, but paired with the white dress shirt and slacks, it really didn’t look all that un-masculine.

“Real men wear pink, little brother!”  Aria had informed him with a laugh.

Since he was part of the bridal party and not the groom’s party, Aria wasn’t having him wear the suit jacket.

He still felt a bit cheated, though.

“ _So many hours_ of trying on dresses.”  He moaned piteously.  “And you put me in a _tux_.”

Aria giggled helplessly.

Harry gave her a mock-offended look.  “I demand heeled shoes, at the very least.”  He sniffed imperiously, tilting hishead so that his nose was in the air and crossing his arms in petulant demand.

Aria fell off her couch as she descended into all-out cackling, causing Gamma to open the door and look at them with a raised eyebrow.

Harry chuckled a little at his ‘big sister’ and rolled his eyes at the man, who shook his head and retreated.

 _Coward_.  He thought fondly at the man’s retreat.

His relationship with Aria and Gamma was strangely easy.  Harry figured that it had something to do with the fact that Aria was intimately familiar with the Curse of the Sky Arcobaleno and its true cost.

Aria had told him, quite candidly, that she’d never be able to repay him for what he’d done for her.  Of course, Harry had tried to say it was nothing, but she’d been firm on her stance.

_“If not for you I’d never be able to have the chance to live my life with the man I love, Harry.”  She’d told him earnestly during one of their first meetings.  “Don’t trivialize your role in that, because that would mean that you’re trivializing the worth of my life, and Gamma’s life, and our future children’s lives.”_

What resistance could he put up against such an earnest statement like that?

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Xanxus of the Vongola _did not want_ to attend the Giglio-Nero wedding.

 _At all_.

Contrary to popular belief, however, it wasn’t because he was simply throwing a temper-tantrum and wanting to make people’s lives difficult.

Xanxus was an illegitimate son, that was a well-known fact.

However, Xanxus had always felt disconnected from the people around him, ever since the day his so-called father had placed his scarf around his neck and proclaimed Xanxus to be his offspring.

Granted, he’d never exactly been a people-person _before_ he’d been taken in by the Nono Vongola.

Xanxus had been born to a _Firefly_ \- a solitary sex worker- in the poorest section of Verona, Italy.  While prostitution was legal, it wasn’t allowed to be organized into a brothel, which meant that the prostitutes were responsible for their own well-being.  This meant that Xanxus had had an up-close-and-person view of the Mafia from a young age, as the local Mafia were who his mother and her co-workers used as security.

It was also where he’d witnessed horrors such as beatings, stabbings, and shootings from his mother’s so-called ‘protectors’.  He’d also witnessed extortion, (though he hadn’t known it was called that until later), and had grown to nurture a deep loathing of people who _lied_ , especially those who tried to use other people for their own gain.

The Mafia types that ruled over areas that propagated prostitution usually also included drugs or other unscrupulous activities- meaning that those Mafia groups weren’t usually part of the greater Mafia.  Meaning, that those groups were allied with Mafia Famiglia such as the Gesso, or Bovinio, or the Vongola, as the Mafia Famiglia who had Flame Active members were subject to Mafia Law as enforced by the _Vindice_.

While a Mafia Famiglia could have Fireflies working for them under Mafia Law, the rules about their working conditions were strict- and part of those conditions included no human trafficking or drug running.

So, while there were areas where there were Mafia Law sanctioned, reputable _Fireflies_ working, his mother’s areas of operation _hadn’t_ been among them.

Which was why, after that night when he’d Activated his Flames when he’d been nine, he’d been so confused about _why_ Nono had claimed him.

Leaving his mother- who had been given a decent apartment to live in as compensation for signing over her rights to Xanxus- had been difficult, as Xanxus had been her protector for as long as he could remember.  Ever since he could comprehend things, he’d been making sure that people didn’t take advantage of his Ma, since she’d forget she’d already paid someone or had already ‘serviced’ a client, and having his central focus removed from his life had been disorienting.

On top of those issues, he’d gone from being a poor kid, getting by on whatever earnings he’d managed to fight for his mother to keep and governmental aid, to being an illegitimate, but well-cared-for heir of one of the richest Mafia Famiglia in the world.

All of a sudden his hard-fought talents meant _nothing_ because he talked rough and had a short fuse. 

It didn’t matter to his snooty, judgmental tutors that Xanxus could sniff out a lie from an expert liar three seconds in to their act, because he couldn’t solve the equations they wrote down on a piece of paper.  It didn’t matter to his new father that Xanxus had been lucky to be able to read and write as well as he could because he had to stay awake most of the night to make sure his Ma’s client paid her and didn’t hurt her, only that he wasn’t proficient enough for his liking.

The life he’d grown up in had taught him not to ask questions about things, but to find his own answers.  So he was missing a lot of basic information that everyone around him simply assumed he knew, and he wasn’t about to look weak and ask stupid questions, so they could turn around and look down on him _even more_.

Underneath all of this, was the unsettling thought that he was being _used_.  Because despite their similar looks, Xanxus didn’t _actually think_ that he was Nono Vongola’s son. 

Why would one of the most powerful men in the entire world pick his Ma, (for all he loved her and was loyal, he realized where she rated in the status-quo), when he had women throwing themselves at him at any given hour of the day?

The attitudes of everyone when his father wasn’t around- _which was often, unless he was berating Xanxus for something_ \- seemed to agree with this deep, dark suspicion that lay uneasily in his gut.

So, to compensate for all that shit, he was loud and obnoxious.  This behavior meant giving them no chance to ignore him or _forget_ about him, while also giving them plenty to talk about that _wasn’t_ related to his Ma or the circumstances of his birth.  By keeping everyone worried about his temper, he was protecting himself and his Ma, plus they stopped trying to take shortcuts with his learning or his other needs.

He slowly grew used to his place as Nono’s fourth son, and he got along with his half-brothers fairly well. 

Enrico was sort of an elitist ass but was a ton of fun to have on hand at social functions with his sharp tongue and penchant for asking uncomfortable or embarrassing questions in an infuriating diplomatic manner.  The eldest brother had had a falling out with their father around the time of _Nonna’s_ death and had moved to _Nonna’s_ estate in Sicily and was rarely around nowadays.

Massimo was uncharacteristically kind for a Mafia man, but wasn’t to be underestimated as he had a sharp mind and a knack for ferreting out secrets, but he’d moved out and had been running the CEDEF with Sawada for about five years now.

Federico was four years older than Xanxus and his favorite partner-in-crime, as Federico was the favorite and therefore was able to get away with just about anything, much to Xanxus’ great amusement.

Enrico and Massimo had already been older teenager by the time Xanxus had been taken in, but he was still fairly friendly with them, if not sibling-close.  Federico had started to drift away from Xanxus after he turned eighteen, as work and other issues became a strain on his time.

So, it was mostly just Xanxus against everyone else who thought he didn’t belong, which hadn’t helped quell his paranoid fears any.  Especially with his father becoming more and more demanding as the years went by and Xanxus never fell in line with what was ‘expected’ of him as an heir to an affluent Famiglia- or massive, world-wide corporation, depending on one’s viewpoint.

Therein lay the issue: Mafia events like the Giglio Nero wedding would be full of all the types of people he hated most, and that was why he was adamant about _not going_.  His father was being uncharacteristically firm with him on this issue, though, and had just _ordered_ Xanxus to attend.

The fifteen-year-old scowled as he stalked out of his father’s office with a thunderous expression on his face, making all the other people in the hall scurry off to avoid incurring his infamous wrath.

 _Fucking asshole._  He seethed as he made his way back towards his rooms.  _Does he like putting me on display as his pet street rat?_

Xanxus slammed the door to his room as he entered and snatched up the nearest breakable object and hurled it at the wall, watching in grim satisfaction as it shattered and rained glass down onto the carpet. 

(The servants had learned to keep his flat surfaces stocked with breakables.  Actually, Guiseppa, his usual maid- who usually went by Sepha- had made a game out of buying cheap, cute breakables and placing bets on how long they would last.)

Xanxus roared at nothing and flopped down face-first onto his couch.

 _Fuck this shit, I’m going to take a nap_.  He decided, and promptly fell asleep.

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	3. Plot Twists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kagehana_Tsukio, who kindly pointed out that I posted the wrong content originally.
> 
> Sorry! And thanks for telling me! = )
> 
> Also, the lovely InsaneScriptist totally came up with some of the dialogue in this chapter! Many, many thanks to her!

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The wedding, true to Aria’s foresight-abusing weather predictions, had been a smashing, rain filled success. 

The bride had been resplendent in her gown under the special canopy that ran the length of the garden to the place were the ceremony was actually performed.

The only true downside for Aria had been the large number of guests, as she’d always wanted a smaller ceremony.

As a Boss, Aria had needed to invite a large number of politically important people that she didn’t necessarily enjoy the company of, but needed to keep appeased lest they complicate her new happily-ever-after.

Unfortunately for her newly showcased ‘little brother’ the matchmaking, power-grabbing women in the crowd were all too eager to foist their pretty daughters off onto the teen.  Marriage or pregnancy, either would be an incredible boon to the Famiglia who could boast such a connection to the powerful Giglio Nero and the Arcobaleno.

While the crowd were unsure on the exact relation the lad held to Aria, the connection he shared with the adult-sized Arcobaleno was blatantly obvious. 

 _Perhaps he is why the Arcobaleno are no longer trapped in their infant forms?_   They whispered to each other as the young teen stood in a place of honor beside his surrogate sister as the ceremony progressed.

The Mafia as a whole hadn’t been given a concrete story as to why the Arcobaleno were now young adults instead of babies.  They each bore necklaces with a snowflake design that shone with their respective Flames’ color- much like their Pacifiers had once glowed- but they had given no statement and anyone who tried to force information from them promptly came up ‘missing’.

 _Maybe he is the lovechild of her mother and one of the Arcobaleno_?  Was returned as Aria and Gamma repeated their vows before them.

Luce had always been a rather whimsical sort of woman, after all.  It would make sense that this young man would have been hidden from view if he’d been fathered by a non-Mafia member or even worse, a rival Famiglia!  The black mark against the Giglio Nero would be akin to the Nono Vongola fathering that bastard boy, Xanxus!  Oh, what a delicious scandal!

  _That would make him even more valuable as a prospective match_.  Their friends hummed in agreement as Aria and Gamma walked back down the aisle and the ceremony ended, giving way to the Reception.

Illegitimate to the line of succession or not, the powerful blood that ran through the young man’s veins could easily bolster a weaker Famiglia’s bloodline.  Why it might even produce a powerful Sky!  The political and socio-economic impact of such a thing would send out ripples into the wider Mafia community as the balances of power would be shifted to accommodate such an event.

Needless to say, by the time the reception began the meddling biddies’ intentions were similar to that of a shark’s when they sensed blood in the water.

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Harry, in his fabulously heeled boots that he wasn’t ever giving back to Aria, was cowering behind a pillar just a little to the west of the dessert table.

In the last hour and a half he’d been accosted by no less than ten women who were suspiciously adamant about chatting about their young, female family members.

He didn’t need his Intuition to warn him of their intentions.

Reborn had rescued him twice, Verde once, and Fon three times.  However, all of his Arcobaleno were currently being security while Aria was doing……whatever it was the crazy woman was doing.

Harry was entirely unashamed of his ignorance of current events.  He wasn’t leaving the safe haven the pillar provided.

It was creeping into the hour and forty-five minute mark of the Reception, and Harry was internally wondering if he needed to really stay a full two hours when he noticed a rather irritated looking teen stalking towards the dessert table with a rather spectacular scowl on his face.

The five sharks trailing behind him completely justified that expression, in Harry’s humble opinion.

The teen, who had boots on who were almost as amazing as Harry’s own, seemed to get stormier and stormier as every moment passed and the women Would.  Not.  Shut.  Up.

Harry admired the teen’s resolve, honestly.  He’d only had to deal with them for about ten minutes at a time.

The teen was valiantly reaching for a rather delicious-looking biscuit when one of the women made a comment that Harry couldn’t hear but prompted a nearly audible _snap_ in the other teen’s patience.

Harry felt pity for the teen and intervened, despite his own reluctance to deal with the old piranhas.

He bravely stepped out from behind his Pillar of Protection and pasted on his most apologetic look. “There you are!”  He exclaimed in his best ‘I’ve-been-looking-for-you-everywhere’ voice.  “Come, Aria will be upset if we miss the next event!”

With that said, he snagged the teen by the arm, tossed his best ‘sorry-but-duty-calls’ look to the women and dragged the other back towards the Main House.

They made it to a rather secluded area safely a few minutes of silence later and Harry let go of the other quickly. 

He turned to face his brother-in-suffering and smiled despite the huge blush that was currently taking over his face and neck.  “Sorry!”  He blurted out quickly as he waved his hands in an attempt to get the other to understand.  “It’s just that they’re like _piranhas_ and they’ve been chasing me all afternoon and I saw them chasing you and I felt bad so-“The other teens’ red eyes narrowed and Harry skipped back a step.  “I’msorryit’sallAria’sfault!”  He blurted out anxiously, eyes wide as he fully realized that he had _just dragged an unknown Mafioso by the arm into a secluded area_.

The other teen stared hard at Harry for a moment and then burst out in deep, rumbling chuckles.  “You’re _interesting_ , trash.”  The other said after a few moments.

Harry set his fists on his hips and gave the other a challenging look.  “I’ll have you know that I am at least _recyclable trash_ , you _ingrate_.  I should have left you to the sharks.”  Harry sniffed and whirled around dramatically, fully intending on going to his room and trying to forget about the strange teen and all the piranhas outside- preferably with that bottle of wine that he’d snitched from the pantry.

So he was rather surprised when the other fell into step with him.  “Excuse you?”  He muttered dryly.  “You called me trash, go face the piranhas alone, _amigo_.”

The other grinned widely at him, showing off perfect white teeth.    “Ah, but we’re getting to know each other better.  I can’t leave now.”  Was said in a low, sultry voice while the other’s teens eyes danced with wicked amusement.

Harry grinned despite himself and huffed dramatically as they ascended the stairs.  “There will be no heart-to-hearts, I’m afraid.  I have a hot date with a wine that is hopefully going to allow me to forget about Madam Mozetti’s _charming_ granddaughter.”

The other stumbled and nearly fell on the stairs, glaring balefully at Harry when he burst out into giggles.  “For that reminder you’re sharing, trash.”

“You can’t make me.”  Harry sang petulantly as he reached his room and stepped inside quickly, trying to close the door in the other’s face.

A tan hand pushed the door back without much issue, causing Harry to pout and glare at the smug interloper.  “Be a proper host and serve refreshments, trash.”  The other drawled as the teen plopped into one of the overstuffed, squishy chairs that Aria’s guestroom held.

Harry huffed but went to retrieve the bottle of wine and two cups from the en-suite kitchenette.  He was rummaging around for a cork-screw in the drawer when he let a, “You should at least tell your host your name.”  Pass over his shoulder to the other.

There was a beat of rather incredulous silence, and then.  “Are you trying to be coy, scum?”

Harry let out a happy noise as he successfully located a cork-screw and used his hip to bump the drawer closed and made for the sitting area with his treasures. 

“No.”  He replied as he made his way into the room and deposited the items on the small side-table.  “I was kept ‘out of the loop’ on most things and I only really know Aria’s closest associates.”

The other rolled their eyes as Harry looked from the cork-screw to the bottle contemplatively before snatching the two items in question off the table and performing the task of opening the bottle himself.  “Xanxus.”  He grunted as he concentrated on his task.

Harry grinned at the other.  “Harry.”

The other teen snorted.  “That’s a boringly normal name.”  Xanxus internally winced.  His habit of being blunt always offended prissy, social types.  The teen pulled the cork from the bottle- correctness be dammed-he was determined to get a drink before his bluntness got him tossed out and earned him a lecture from his Old Man.

“I know, right?”  Harry replied, startling Xanxus enough to look up and catch an amused emerald gaze.  “Xanxus.”  Harry repeated, rolling the name around on his tongue as he did so.  “Hm.  Xanxus.  It’s fun to say.”  Then other smirked, “I bet you never find it on one of those crappy tourist keychains, though.  So I win at life.  With my boring name.” 

Xanxus snorted and rolled his eyes again as the other actually stuck his tongue out.  “Whatever, brat.”

“Hey, don’t call me a brat!”  Harry whined playfully as Xanxus poured them both some wine.  “I’ll have you know that I turned fourteen recently!”

Xanxus raised his cup in a mock-salute and quirked an eyebrow.  “Congratu-fucking-lations, brat.  I’m _fifteen_.”

Harry pouted but raised his cup to his lips and sipped.

Xanxus nearly spit out his wine at the disgusted look on the other’s face and the hasty retreat they made to the kitchenette.

Harry, who came back into the room with a bottle of apple juice , scowled ferociously at the smug look on Xanxus’ face.  “Shut up.”

Xanxus chortled even as he knocked back more of the wine in his glass.  “Not a wine person, huh?”

“It didn’t taste bad at first.”  Harry grumbled peevishly.  “But the aftertaste- _ergh_.”  Harry shuddered dramatically.  “Like sour milk, but _worse_.”

“You have no class.”

“You’re one to talk, _Xanxus_.”

“Watch yourself, _brat_.”

Things continued in that vein from there as Xanxus made his way through the bottle of wine and Harry drank his carton of apple juice, followed by a carton of orange juice.  As a matter of fact they were both rather startled when the light from the sun was suddenly replaced by the glowing ambience coming from the garden, which was able to be seen from Harry’s balcony.

Shortly thereafter Xanxus stood to leave.  “Well, I’d better get back down there.  My Old Man probably ready to leave.”

“Sure, sure.”  Harry teased as they walked towards the door and exited out into the hallway.  “You just missed your adoring fans.”

Xanxus casually whacked the other across the back of the head.  “ _Brat_.”  He rumbled warningly.

Harry rubbed the back of his head and grinned unrepentantly at his companion.  “Yeah, yeah.  Go get ‘em, _tiger_.”

Xanxus made a strange face for a moment and then made the mistake of making eye contact with Harry.

They both were entirely still for a moment before bursting out into raucous laughter.

They were both wheezing from laughter hanging onto each other in an effort to stay upright when Reborn and Xanxus’ father found them.  Well, Reborn, Xanxus’ father, and Xanxus’ father’s Guardians.

All the aforementioned people stared at the duo in disconcerted confusion.

Harry took one look at Reborn’s face and lost it.

At least he took Xanxus down with him.

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Harry rolled over and groaned when he realized that his Flame Phone was ringing. 

He pawed at the screen and squinted blearily as he tried to read the Caller ID.   It took all of a moment for him to realize that that specific ringtone only belonged to one person. “Hello.”  He mumbled as he answered the call.

“ _My Old Man’s being annoying_.”

Skull took the phone from Harry.  “We’re on the ship.”  The Cloud chirped cheerfully.  “It’s docked about a half mile out from the Giglio Nero’s private beach.”

“ _I’ll be there in an hour.  Tell the brat to make breakfast._ ”

“Will do!”  Skull replied cheerily just before the line went dead.

Harry groaned and tried to bury himself deeper into his pillow.

“None of that!”  Skull sang out brightly as he cruelly snatched the pillow away from Harry.  “Your best friend is having a crisis!”

“No he’s not.”  Harry mumbled sleepily.  “His Dad is just trying to make Xanxus something he’s not.”

“Well, at any rate, with the both of you here today, there will be a history test!  So, up!”

Harry groaned but began to extricate himself from his comfy bed.

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Skull tapped his fingers against the table as he contemplated the recent changes.

In the three months since the Giglio Nero wedding Xanxus of the Vongola had become one of Harry’s best friends.  While there had initially been some friction between the young Vongola and Skull, Harry had kicked them both in the shin and reminded Skull of the fact that he was _never getting rid of Harry_.

The reminder of the little bonding ritual that Harry had gone through with his fellow family members had settled the Cloud’s territorial tendencies and after that Xanxus had been incorporated into the life of Harry on nearly a daily basis.

Very nearly _literally_ every day.

If Xanxus wasn’t staying with Harry, he was on the phone with him.

Skull was still acting as Harry’s tutor, along with the occasional guest Arcobaleno tutor when Skull was busy or in any of the subjects that Skull couldn’t teach well. 

This had translated into Xanxus not only hanging out with Harry as a friend but also as a fellow pupil.  Skull and the other Arcobaleno had been pleasantly surprised with the constructive competition that this had spawned between the two teens.  As Harry wasn’t a lackluster student by any means, but having Xanxus there to push him seemed to allow Harry to thrive even more.

Xanxus, who was a difficult, disruptive student according to Reborn’s reports from his Vongola-paid tutors, was thriving under Skull’s tutelage.

He was doing so well under Skull’s instruction, as a matter of fact, that Skull was currently being negotiated with to be Xanxus’ full-time tutor.

While having no problem teaching Xanxus, Skull was hesitant to do anything for the Vongola.  Not out of spite or because he had anything against them, but he wanted to go back to doing stunts after Harry passed his A-Levels and doing a job of _any kind_ with the Vongola attached to it would be another tether to the underworld.

However, Skull was slowly caving as he watched how estranged Xanxus was from most everybody else _except_ Harry.

Skull knew what it was like to be an outsider and have your best never be good enough for the people around you because your brand of fighting was different.  While Skull fought through strategies and emotional instinct, Xanxus was feral instinct and decisive blows.

The current Vongola head- Nono- preferred to lead through polite intimidation and subtle sabotage, which cause him and Xanxus to often butt heads about how they felt things should be handled. 

As the fourth in line and an illegitimate son, Xanxus wasn’t even really in the running for Vongola Decimo.  However, Nono’s reluctance to actually name his successor, Xanxus being the only child still at ‘home’, and the brewing unrest between the various Famiglia under the Vongola’s collective umbrella was causing major friction between Xanxus and his Old Man.

Xanxus was a sentinel, a protector.  Someone who needed to be proactive to feel like he was contributing to his family properly. 

One of Timoteo’s biggest mistakes was in using Xanxus’ temper as a deterrent and _not talking to Xanxus about what he was actually trying to accomplish with such a tactic,_ Skull mused thoughtfully as a freshly-showered Harry shuffled into the kitchen and started grabbing things from the cupboards to make breakfast.  Xanxus’ temper was legendary and Timoteo- Nono- had been known to casually use this tidbit to his advantage.  If Timoteo would just _talk_ to Xanxus and tell him things instead of hemming and hawing and _constantly beating around the bush_ about thing, the tension between father and son might deescalate.  Instead, Xanxus would hear about his father’s comments from third-parties and that left him feeling like a rabid dog who the Vongola kept around out of some sort of twisted sense of responsibility or show of power.

 _It leaves him feeling used and out of place_.  Skull mused as the smell of breakfast began to fill the room.  _He already knows that something is fishy about Timoteo taking him in but he also respects the man who raised him.  However, there’s a thin line between love and hate, and Xanxus is flirting with it in regards to his father because of all the dis- and mis- information that goes on between the two of them.  I believe that Timoteo’s intentions are good, and that he took the boy in because he is either his actual son or  a child that he felt genuine compassion for.  But the more he talks to everyone other than Xanxus, the more Xanxus’ resentment for him grows, which makes his temper worse, and then the cycle starts all over again._

Skull’s purple eyes narrowed as he glanced at the clock.  “I’m going to get the dinghy so I can pick him up.”  He informed Harry, who yawned and fluttered a lazy hand towards him in response.

 _My biggest hope is that Xanxus won’t reach the point where he decides that the only way he can protect the things that he loves is through violence_.  Skull mused as he readied the dinghy- magic and Flames were so, totally aweomr, especially when combined with Verde’s tech- and began to make his way towards the beach.  The early morning’s sea breeze helped soothe his troubled thoughts as he sped through the bright waters of the Mediterranean Sea.  _Because, honestly, that’s the only thing he’s even been able to do that has seemed to contribute to his family and his father has unknowingly reinforced that fact.  If this situation continues like this, Xanxus is liable to begin to believe that violence is the only thing he’s good at, and then he’ll never be able to find a healthy balance between love and war._

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Harry and Xanxus were seated at the ‘dining room’ table of the ship with the rest of the Arcobaleno, plus Sirius and Marius.

“So, what’s up?”  Harry asked curiously, as he had no idea why they were gathered together or why his Arcobaleno seemed so stressed.

“The thing is, Harry.”  Sirius began somewhat hesitantly.  “Well, there are a lot of children in your generation who aren’t able to use magic anymore because of Voldemort and, indirectly, Dumbledore.  They can’t use magic, and it’s both Pureblood children and nonmagical-born kids, some of whom were in their Seventh Years of Hogwarts when it happened…”  Sirius trailed off as his mouth twisted into a grimace at the thought. 

Imagine losing your magic just when you got old enough to use your wand all the time!

“Ok.”  Harry replied slowly.  “So…?”

Xanxus’ eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms as he tipped his chair up on two legs.  “You want to see if they can use Flames.”  He declared bluntly after a moment of thought.

“What?”  Harry asked, confused as he looked between his Godfather and his best friend.

“They were born with magic and were even in a school for it before- through the faults of the people who were supposed to protect them, like their government and their Headmaster- that ability was either damaged or entirely taken away.”  Xanxus explained as the situation, which he’d previously been told about, began to play out in his mind.  His brow furrowed as he continued, ignoring Harry’s quiet sound of comprehension as he pursued his line of thought.  “Their families don’t know what to do with them, probably.  For the magic-raised it’s a lot like what that guy-“  Xanxus jerked a thumb in Marius’ direction.  “-went through.  For the nonmagical born….well, their lives were turned upside down by the discovery of this new, fantastical world and now they’ve been dropped back into the boring ‘normal’ one without much of an explanation.  That’s gotta leave a mark.”

“Oh.”  Harry said rather dumbly, as Xanxus’ words began to paint a rather grim picture in his mind.

“Yeah, oh.”  Sirius took the tale back up from there, with a nod in Xanxus’ direction.

“However, I can use Flames.”  Marius said patiently.  “And I remember how hard it was for me the first few years after…..”  Marius’s face took on a pained expression that he quickly smoothed out.  He coughed slightly and continued.  “After I was cast out.”

“Skull wants to be a stuntman again.”  Reborn interjected, causing Skull to give him a strange look. 

Reborn’s lack of confidence in skull being able to go back to his ‘old life’ was nearly _legendary_.

“We think that these people would be a good investment.”  Viper chimed in from her side of the table.  “We make a new Famiglia out of them.”  She held up a hand to quell Harry’s protests.  “Listen.  You don’t want to be a Mafia Boss, but right now Flame users are all involved in the Mafia.  So make a place for the ones who don’t want to fight and give a place to belong to those who do.”

“Oh.”  Harry repeated as he blinked owlishly.  “Oh.”

Viper smirked as she saw the light dance in her Sky’s eyes and she grinned at the stupefied Skull.

“So you’re suggesting that we allow help them use their Flames and then let them find their own places from there.”  Xanxus mused aloud as he tipped his head back in thought.  “Damn.”  He whistled lowly as he rolled the though over in his mind.  “Give them a few years and you’d have a whole army of people who are entirely unpredictable and dangerous.”

“Not to mention loyal.”  Verde pointed out as he decided to chip in his two cents.  “Look, Harry.  We have Famiglia that we work with.”  He gestured to his fellow Arcobaleno.  “But at the end of the day we’re _your_ Elements.  These people really have nothing to look forward to at this point.  Let use help them, you help them, and then whatever loyalty they feel towards you will be their own doing.”

“Verde wants fellow scientists to work with, ones who think outside of the box.”  Colonnello said as he made his case to his Sky.  “Reborn wants students to tort-teach.”  He quickly corrected as Reborn gave him a look and reached for his gun.  “I need minions to help me at Mafia Land.  Lal wants to teach promising students how to be bodyguards and investigators.  Fon wants a place he can drop orphaned children so they won’t get caught up in the Triads.  Skull can help those who want to get into entertainment.  Viper can teach the ones who are good at business focus their ambitions.”  Colonnello gestured to Sirius and Marius.  “And those two just want to cause chaos.”

“Yep!”  Sirius chipped in cheerily.

Xanxus whacked Harry over the back of the head.  “You’re giving them a way to live instead of just survive.  Putting color into their world, so to speak.  Don’t be a drama queen.”

Harry rubbed the back of his head and scowled.  “ _Prat_.”  He grumbled at his best friend, who looked entirely unimpressed and merely quirked an eyebrow in return.

Harry’s shoulders drooped in defeat.

Viper held out an imperious hand towards Verde.

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	4. Interlude

 

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Hermione Granger was a young woman who was quite tired of her life being uprooted, and her parents were feeling much the same. 

Hermione had always been a bit of an odd duck- part of the reason that she clung to her parents and her books so tightly- but she thought that she had found a place to fit in when Professor Minerva McGonagall had showed up on her parent’s doorstep in all of her neatly-tightened-hair-bunned, tartan clad glory claiming that magic existed.  The Professor had even been wearing a pointed witch’s hat!

Her parents- two very sensible, science grounded people as they were both Dentists- had taken some measure of convincing, but in the end they had needed to admit the existence of magic.  Hermione had spent the better part of the next year- the school’s cut-off date for enrollment was September first, and as her birthday fell on the nineteenth of September- badgering her parents into taking trips to the Wizarding Alley and pouring over all the information she could get her hands on with nearly fanatical devotion.

Her parents were amiably indulgent, partially because they were pleased to see Hermione so excited about something and partially because they hoped that she would be able to make proper friends at this new school.  The Drs. Granger were not so thrilled that they would be missing so much of their daughter’s life, but if Hermione was happy, they would do everything they could to enable her success, even if they could not follow her.

That hope curdled over the course of Hermione’s First Year, as their daughter’s letters home contained only notes about classes interspersed with amusing anecdotes that did not include her directly but happened around her.  They had tried to address this issue when she came home for her Hols, but Hermione was single-minded in her mission to keep them distracted and by the time summer came, all three of them were so happy to be back together that they had not brought up Hermione’s school much and she had not offered to share much either, instead she happily dragged her parents around France’s historical sights and chattered about anything and everything that caught her eye.

The Second Year’s letters home were mainly a repeat of the First Years’ letters, although Hermione did start writing about her peers as if she was interacting with them a bit more.  Then, instead of her riding the Hogwarts Express home the third week of June, Hermione had been brought home by two officials of the magical Ministry.  They explained that there had been an incident at the school and it needed to close down and that was where the elder Grangers’ memory greyed out.  Hermione had been lethargic all summer, lethargic in a way that did not suggest that she was immersed in a good book and wanting to get back to it, but listless in that she was depressed.

The Granger parents would often notice and would go to ask her about things, trying to get her to confide in them.  However, every time they asked about her school they were reminded of something urgent that they had previously forgotten and had to leave.  It would be a few days before they would try again and then the same thing would happen all over again!  It was positively vexing!

Then, about halfway through August another two Ministry for Magic officials showed up and asked Hermione some questions.

It was at that point that the elder Grangers forgot all about a boarding school in Scotland named Hogwarts and that there was an entire world of magic beneath the mundane populace’s noses.  They simply woke up the next morning wondering why their daughter had not taken any of her GCSE’s yet, when last they knew her goal had been to get her A-levels done at least a year early!

Hermione seemed to want to tell them something sometimes, and they would get a massive headache if they thought about the issue too much, but they chalked it up to being parents with a slightly troublesome daughter who was not apply herself properly and let it be.

In her room, Hermione Granger cried herself to sleep most nights and wondered if she would ever find a place to belong.  It was only her love for her parents and her staunchly Christian upbringing that kept her darkest thoughts of ending her life at bay.

But for how long?

Her parents took her to see a therapist, who prescribed her anti-depressants, but the sessions tended to frustrate Hermione greatly as she could not even hint at what had truly gone on at Hogwarts- not even in general terms!  Her tongue would fail her, her mind would go blank- everything that could possible hinder her from talking about those two years seemed to happen!

She muddled through the next year’s school life by the skin of her teeth.  Slowly her tried dried out but her heartache remained constant, the knowledge that there was an intrinsic part of her that had been violently ripped away and lost forever hung heavily in her thoughts.

She had signed up for summer school- because she was far behind where she wanted to be because she’d gone to- _no, don’t think about Hermione. Keep your goals I mind._   She told herself determinedly as she forced herself to move and ready herself for another day.

That afternoon she climbed aboard the shuttle that was taking the specially selected students on a day-trip she barely paid any mind to where they were going.  Eventually the shuttle stopped and she and the others disembarked.  Shortly thereafter, one of the Teacher’s Aides pulled her aside and told her that she had something that she thought Hermione would appreciate.  As the woman was a teacher, Hermione did not pay any mind, but soon enough she was in a medium-sized conference room and there were some familiar faces there as well.

“Ah, goo, you’re here too!”  Dean Thomas told her brightly, waving her over to the empty seat next to him, which she mechanically made her way to and sat down rather stiffly.

“Dean?  Seamus?”  She greeted tentatively.  “What’s going on _?_ ”  She asked them, her heart beating slightly fast and her brilliant mind running wild with all the possible reasons they could be gathered together.

Then a man with bright green hair, glasses and a lab coat entered and Hermione feared the absolute worst. 

They’re going to chop me up and experiment on me.  She thought as panicked tears pricked at her eyes and she glanced around for an escape.  The absence of the soothing warmth of her magic a stark contrast to the sheer terror that flooded through her.

Then the blue-haired woman with the strange scar on her cheek who was wearing what looked to be a uniform of some sort smacked the man with the lab coat upside the head and rolled her eyes expressively.  “Verde.”  She said in a rather longsuffering voice.  “Stop giving people heart attacks.”

Just like that, Hermione’s mind slowed and her breathing evened.

The woman turned amused cinnamon-violet eyes towards them.  “Welcome.  I am Lal Mirch, you may refer to me as Instructor Lal, and this-“  She pointed towards the green haired man who was rubbing his head and glaring at her in annoyance.  “-is Verde.  We are here because there is something you all have in common.”

“You were all students of Hogwarts at one point in time.”  Verde told them, straightening up and adjusting his glasses primly.  “I realize that seeing someone in a lab coat could cause some apprehension, however we are not going to spirit you away and chop you up for science reason.”  The man’s face brightened with childish glee.  “Though if any of you would like to- _oof_.  Dammit Lal!  I was joking!”

Lal Mirch glowered at Verde and whacked him again for good measure before she turned back towards the assembled teens.  “The magical world fucked you over.”  She told them bluntly.  “And through faults of their own making you all were shoved back into a world you had just left with no support, no help, and little to no explanation.”  The woman’s eyes took on a rather self-satisfied sheen.  “Fear not, your losses have been properly avenged.”

Hermione was wondering why she was so calm.  She felt nearly tranquil, which was something she had not felt for _ages_.

Verde stopped massaging his gut- where Lal had hit him that time- and smiled at them.  “We cannot replace what was lost, but-“  He held up a hand and all of them jumped a bit when it caught fire.

Well, it was more like green lightning that danced from finger to finger than actual fire, but fire was the first thing that came to mind before the scene processed.

“We believe that we can teach you all to use a different innate power that the one you had before usually unintentionally suppressed or was used to explain away.”  He told them, rather smug at their gob-smacked expressions.

Lal rolled her eyes and gestured to an unnamed person who had entered with them.  “This is Marius Black and he will be passing out the folders today.”  She explained as the man walked around and place brightly lit catalogues in front of them.  “He was born as a nonmagical child into a magical household.  He has learned to use the same power that Verde showed you- which are referred to, surprisingly-“  Her lips twisted into a wry smirk.  “As Flames.”

“Allow us to be clear.”  Verde told them sternly.  “Even if you do not have the capacity to use the Flames we will not drop you and leave you to fend for yourself.  However, before we go to your parents with this, we wanted to give you the option to decline the offer.”

“We would understand.”  Lal told them, eyes compassionate as she looked at them.  “You lives have been overturned and wrung out several times in the past few years.  If you wish to not take the offer the books will disappear in a few days and this meeting will be pushed to the back of your mind.”

“Should you choose to take this opportunity.”  Verde added as the teens slowly began to flip through the catalogues.  “You will be boarding at the Academy and all of you will be in therapy for a least a year, with therapists who circumvent the Vow of Silence that you are under.  If you wish it, we can involve your parents in these sessions as well.  While regularly we are under Omertá, we have been given special dispensation by the Vindice- our, Flame users that is, Law Keepers- due to the precautions we have taken.”  Verde suddenly levelled them all with a sharp, heavy stare.  “We will not recklessly endanger you, so we will be carefully monitoring the reactions of the adults, and if necessary we _will_ wipe their memory of the truth.”  Verde’s glasses flashed sharply.

“However, we do not want to tear families who can handle the truth apart, either.”  Lal finished. 

Hermione’s heart jumped to her throat and her fingers tightened around the edges of her notebook.  “My Mum and Dad.”  She blurted out suddenly.  “They-the Ministry they did something to them-“  Her voice broke and tears welled up in her eyes.  “They only want what’s best for me, but I can’t talk to them!”  Hermione’s lip quivered dangerously and tears began to track down her face.  “I just want my life back!”  She burst out passionately, as all the _anger_ and _sadness_ and _hurt_ and feelings of _don’t belong_ and _outsider_ began to run over inside her.

Lal and Verde smiled, softly yet dangerously.  “We can help with that, dearie.”

For the first time since her life came crashing down around her ears, Hermione Granger dared to hope that she might yet find her way in the world.

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Draco Malfoy had known for his entire life that he would grow up to be Lord Malfoy.  That he would marry a Pureblood witch and carry on the proud traditions of the magical world, and possibly put some upstart Half-Bloods and Mudbloods in their place along the way.

His father, of course, had been a staunch supporter of the Dark Lord and had needed to plead the Imperious so that he could keep out of Azkaban and carry on the Dark Lord’s agenda after the Dark Lord’s temporary defeat in nineteen-eighty-one at the hand of the Mudblood Evans.

Draco knew this- all of this and more- and had gloried in the power that his name and breeding awarded him, his Mother and Father looking at him with pride whenever he sneered at an ignorant Mudblood when they went for an outings in Diagon Alley or put an upstart Half-Blood at one of Mother’s parties in their place- usually with tears being involved.  Mother and Father would straighten in pride and pat him proudly on the head while their associates looked on enviously.

Then Draco had gotten his Hogwarts’s Letter and before the year could even begin the Potter brat who had defied the Dark Lord had been declared dead!  Father never said anything, but Draco knew that his father had had to have had a hand in such a glorious occasion.  Father was one of the Dark Lord’s finest, one who had been furthering His agenda all of Draco’s life of course Father would have been involved.  Father even spoke to Mother about acquiring the Potter Estate once it came out of Probate to present to the Dark Lord upon His return!  To think, the might of the Malfoys, the Blacks, and the Potters! 

They would be nigh invincible to any but the Dark Lord Himself!

Draco had strutted proudly around Hogwarts, secure in the knowledge of who he was and what was to come.  He mocked and belittled and spat on those who were beneath him and not even Dumbledore himself could stop him.  Not with Father’s pull with the Minister; not with Mother presiding over the other Pureblood Wives at Tea.

Draco had eagerly waited for the day of the Dark Lord’s return so that he could join the ranks of the Death Eaters and perform magnificent feats of magic in his Lord’s name!

He even practiced, in secret.  Dark spells- ones that rotted flesh from bone or shredded a creature from the inside out- practiced on fish and rats and pigeons whenever he could manage it.  His practice, he reasoned, would please the Dark Lord upon His return and Draco strived to be indispensable, invaluable for his future Master.  For surely the Dark Lord would favor him, Draco Malfoy, Scion of the Most Noble House of Malfoy, future Lord of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and Conqueror of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter?

_Right_?

As it turns out, Draco’s entire life had been a lie.  Not that such a thing surprised him _now_.

The Dark Lord did return, but at the cost of Draco- and seventy or so other students’ magic.  The Dark Lord had swept into Malfoy Manor and his Father- Draco’s hero- had kissed the bastard’s robes even after the Dark Lord had called everyone together and announced that He had used their children’s magic to return.

Draco’s Father-, (and most of the others’), had rejoiced at the Dark Lord’s impassioned speech about ‘necessary sacrifices’ and how the Wives would need to ‘bear new sons and daughters’ for the good of the magical world and the Dark Lord’s future kingdom.

Lucius- for he ceased to be Father- locked Draco in the Malfoy Manor dungeons and forbid Mother from visiting.  (Draco knew because he heard her casting desperately at the protections on the dungeons whenever Father was out.  Lucius caught her once and Draco did not hear from her for nearly a week afterwards.)  Many of Draco’s schoolmates joined him.  Theodore Nott was the first, pitched headfirst into the dungeon by his father, bleeding and shaking and sobbing.  Then there was Marcus Flint, with burned sections of skin and his ever-increasing temperature.

(Marcus had died in a little under a day.  His blood rising from his skin in a gaseous form.

“A slow-acting Blood-Boiling Curse.”  The horrified Charles Warrington had muttered in terror.)

They were brought food and drink by the increasingly battered-looking Malfoy House Elves.  Other than that they were left to huddle together in fear and use nonmagical chamber pots to relieve themselves.  Their clothes were exchanged weekly when the showers were turned on- cold water only and the roughest nonmagical soap that could be found- and they learned quickly that trying to preserve modesty only caused their short, cold showers to be even shorter.  The girls were separated from the boys, so there was that much.  But they could still hear each other through the thick walls, and often started conversations to pass the time until one of the Death Eaters came down to ‘quiet them’.

They learned a lot about themselves and their so-called ‘blood privileges’ in the near year they were left to huddle together in fear.  They learned that most of what they had learned about in their lives was _shit_ and that people could be _arseholes_ no matter if they were magical or nonmagical.  They laughed bitterly to themselves as they played games shown to them by the Half-Bloods to keep themselves sane.

Then had come the strange men with the cold, dark Flames and the rattling chains.

Draco had been terrified, strapped to the chair in front of the impassive men with bandages covering their entire bodies, dark cloaks and ice-cold fire.

“ **Draco Malfoy**.”  The being seated in the Magister’s Chair had intoned deeply, the voice dark and low as the sound reverberated through the curved stone chamber and to the depths of Draco’s very bones.

He _knew_ then, with crystal-clear certainty that these beings could annihilate him with barely a thought.

“ **You are hereby found guilty of practicing Dark Magic with the intent to cause grievous harm to civilians.  You sentencing will be decided in three days’ time.  Take him away**.” 

Later, while serving his time for practicing those disgusting Curses on helpless animals, Draco wondered where he would go once his sentence was over.  It had been nearly a year, and he would be released soon.  _I’m never going back to Malfoy Manor._   He thought fiercely.  The lock on his cell jingled and he watched with no little amount of trepidation as the door swung inwards and allowed the impersonal light of the hall to spill inside.

“ _Draco_!”  His Mother cried, rushing forward to embrace him.

Draco closed his eyes and reveled in his Mother’s embrace as she whispered an endless litany of apologies into his ear and ran shaky hands through his hair.

“I missed you.”  He murmured, uncaring of who else might hear him as he wrapped his arms around her and held her firmly, but gently _.  She’s lost a great deal of weight._   He thought with a worried frown, cradling her closer as her tears soaked his hair from where she had buried her face into it.  _At least it’s clean_.  He thought with a rather wry grin as he rocked her back and forth lightly.

Draco had no idea how much time had passed before he heard someone clear their throat pointedly from behind them and his Mother quickly withdrew, swiping away the tears.  “Draco, I should be in prison for the rest of my life, but Sirius-“  She gestured behind her and Draco peered past her shoulder to see a man that looked an awful lot like the pictures he had seen of Grandfather Orion leaning against the door, and just past him Draco could see two cloaks of the Vindice Guards fluttering along the edges of the doorway.  “-Sirius made a deal with the Vindice.  Because I was slated to stay in Minimum Security they will Divert my sentence if you and I swear service to the House of Black and Lord Black, though neither of us will ever be able to be the Executor of the Estate or take the Lordship.”  Narcissa wrung her hands together desperately.  “I know-“  She hiccupped lightly but pressed forward determinedly.  “-I know it’s not much but-“

Draco smiled warmly at his Mother and gently grasped her hands.  “It’s fine Mother.  More than I deserve, most likely.”

Narcissa’s face crumpled and she drew him back to her breast.  “We’ll get through this, Dragon.  And we’ll be better for it.  With Sirius instead of _that bastard_ -“  Narcissa’s eyes flashed malevolently and her arms tightened around Draco, nearly uncomfortably tight, but he endured it silently.

He understood, after all.

Narcissa pulled back a little and cupped Draco’s face tenderly.  “Are you with me, Draco?  We must swear before they will let either of us leave.”  She asked tremulously, knowing that Lucius had always been Draco’s hero and that they’d always encouraged her son’s cruelty and sense of entitlement and that there was a chance, that even after all that had happened, Draco might-

Draco looked directly at Sirius, the man who they had always called ‘Blood Traitor’ and had laughed at about being in Azkaban without so much as a trial.  Lucius had laughed many an evening about the ‘Blood Traitor’ being in Azkaban for a crime he couldn’t have possibly committed.  Looking at him, standing tall and firm and with eyes that were kind, but unyielding, Draco spent a moment lamenting that this man was not his Father.

“What words do I need to Swear, Lord Black?”  Draco asked evenly.

Sirius smiled at him then, blue eyes lighting up with happiness and warmth as one of the Vindice Guards brought up a table made of chains and fire, with a Flame-wreathed Contract on the table’s flat surface.

“You need to say the words aloud and then sign the contract, Draco.”  Sirius gave him a searching look.  “Lucius Malfoy was able to Divert most of his sentence to House Arrest by way of the fact that he mostly arranged incidents or bribes instead of outright committing crimes.”  Sirius explained evenly and Narcissa shifted so that she was standing beside Draco, with one arm wrapped securely around his shoulder.  From the look on her face, this was apparently news to her as well.

Sirius took in their outraged expressions and his grin sharpened and turned a touch or three crueler.  “The Manor is mostly empty- meaning nearly all the possessions are gone and all of the House Elves- and the only work he will find, because he cannot leave the country to look for work as it would violate his Diversion, is menial labor.  He chose to keep the Manor- which has been mostly emptied save for a few paintings and some other odds and ends, the Library is completely gone!- so he is paying rent out the arse, which will run through his remaining money rather quickly.”  Sirius’ grin turned even sharper and crueler.  “I believe he was expecting Draco to come back when he was released from here and then negotiate for your release, ‘Cissy.  Draco would have mostly like been made to find employment while Lucius tried to conceive another Heir, who would be able to bypass all of the Malfoy sanctions once he or she came of age.”

“I’d drink poison first.”  Narcissa declared, her teeth grinding dangerously.

“And I’d rather live as a homeless nonmagical.”  Draco interjected wryly, walking forward and picking up the strange pen before signing.  Then pen worked like a Blood Quill- Draco had seen them used before at Gringotts- but there was something a bit different about it as well.  He shrugged as he stepped back and allowed his Mother to sign.

“Exactly.”  Sirius said cheerily as the contracts burst into Flames and the table dissolved as well.  “You’ll get your paper copies at the front desk.”  He told them as the Guards came forward and removed the Chains around Narcissa and Draco’s wrists.  “But ‘ole Lucy can only come to Gringotts- if he has been summoned- and be at Malfoy Manor.  He can’t even have visitors without them being approved.”

The implications hit Mother and son at the same moment and both of them grinned sharply.  “You don’t say.”  Narcissa purred dangerously.  “Well, he’ll have his favorite company- _himself_.”

Sirius threw his head back and laughed uproariously.

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Arthur Weasley sat at his still rather new desk in the Inappropriate Use of Magical Artifacts Office. 

The office was now located across the hall from the new Statue of Secrecy Preservation Office, which now housed both the Underage Magic monitors and the Statue of Secrecy Enforcement monitoring teams.  The Magic Reversal Office was to the left with the Obliviator’s Office right next to Arthur’s own office.  Well, the offices were more like suites, and they currently were comfortably large so that they could add more staff without becoming cramped or tripping over each other.  The entire floor was dedicated to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and it was a much better arrangement than it had been before the shadowy Vindice had shown up and the government had been entirely restructured.

The Weasley Patriarch shuddered slightly as he thought about Magical Britain’s new ‘Enforcers’.  While the Aurors and Hit Wizards still performed arrests and investigations, the shadowy Vindice were the actual jury and decided on sentencing.  Arthur had heard that once the next generation grew up and took up the family’s Wizengamot Seats, the Vindice would allow trials to be conducted by the Wizengamot so long as the Laws were upheld universally.  It was at that point that the Vindice would allow the Lawmakers to begin making new laws and allow for the election of a new Minister, as right now they were being governed by the Vindice-appointed Steward.

(Unknown to the magical world, the ‘Steward’ was actually the various Arcobaleno under the same disguise.  Viper in particular delighted in causing the magicals headaches, so Viper was the one who was regularly the one in ‘character’.)

Still, even with all of the positive changes and progress Arthur wished that it had not come at such a steep price.

Arthur had always been an outcast, ridiculed for his fascination with nonmagicals and how they managed to live without having magic.  His fascination had been what had fueled his desire to work for the Ministry, as he wanted to help keep those fascinating people safe from magical items that they held no defense against.  His wonderful Molly had supported him, even though the pay was not terribly great, but his lovely wife made the paltry amount that he had been paid stretch and cover all their household expenses.  They were poor in money, but rich In laughter and children and happiness, and that had been sufficient for Arthur.

He and Molly did have moments where they wished that they had more money so that they could buy better things for the home or their children, but in the end everyone was healthy and fed and that was enough for the couple.

So, years had passed and his beautiful Molly-wobbles had blessed him with seven healthy, magical children and Arthur worked longer hours to help provide, but he hadn’t minded because at the end of his day he could go home to his wife and children.

For Arthur things had started going downhill the year that Ron- his youngest boy- had started Hogwarts.  The announcement of the death of little Harry Potter, who should have been in Ron’s year had cast a pall over the entire magical community, making people begin to regress back into the habits of a decade prior, even without the announcement of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s return.  There was an aura of fear that had begun creeping through the residents of Magical Britain and terror began to quietly settle in the backs of their minds.

The school year had ended with nothing overly terrible occurring, but that had just ratcheted up the level of fearful apprehension even higher.  Diagon Alley’s crowds thinned and the ‘Imperious Victims’ began to edge closer into their old habits.  Arthur’s workload increased exponentially, and he was lucky to be able to return home long enough for a few hours of sleep and some of Molly’s wonderful cooking before being called back out.

Then had come the day that he and Molly had been called to Hogwarts and their world had come crashing down around their ears.

Their youngest child and only girl, Ginny had been caught with a Dark Artifact and had been rendered entirely unable to use magic.  According to the Unspeakables Ginny even needed nonmagical medicine because she no longer had enough inherent magic to be able to use Potions.  If that wasn’t enough, Ron had somehow been rendered unable to use magic, though he had enough inherent magic to be able to use Potions and magical artifacts.  Fred and George, their wonderful, innovative twins had been shattered by the news that while Fred still had full use of his magic, George had somehow been entirely drained of his magic potential.

(That the Unspeakables had made mention of Fred being the eldest and therefore the ‘senior’ twin possibly being able to draw magic from George because they were magical twins had cause Fred to feel extremely guilty and horrified.)

Percy, their oldest child at Hogwarts had been the least affected as the phenomena had barely touched him, but it was a bitter pill for the teen to swallow as he had always been sort of an outsider among his younger siblings, (something that Arthur had always lamented and had wanted to mend, but hadn’t know _how_ ).

Once the Weasley parents had gathered their broken children and spirited them back home the truly hard part began.

For all of Arthur’s fascination and fondness for nonmagicals, he had no idea how they actually managed to live.  Then there was the stigma, speculation, and righteous anger from his colleagues because Ginny had been the one caught with the Dark Artifact.  While Ginny had been cleared by the Unspeakables, the general populace needed to blame someone, and the _Daily Prophet_ articles had only fanned the flames of rage against his youngest child.  Arthur and Molly had also come under attack, and before the next Hogwarts term started Arthur was holding on to his Ministry position only by the grace of him being a Pureblood.

The blame-game had affected the children and Molly as well, as the Weasley Matriarch could not take the children out without some sort of altercation occurring.  That meant that the children were essentially imprisoned at the Burrow, which for all its surrounding land was comparatively tiny.  Ginny, Ron, and George being constantly immersed in a magic-rich environment when they no longer were able to use it had not exactly encouraged healing or positive thinking.  Fred had refused to return to Hogwarts, and despite all logic telling the Weasley parents that he needed to go to finish his education they could not force the twins to be split during such a dark time.

The Headmaster and the Ministry had been quite insistent that Fred return, however, and in the end the Weasley family had been forced to send a furious, irate Fred to Hogwarts while George remained behind.

(They hadn’t known that the Headmaster had been trying his best to allow Fred an Exception, but with all the hard feelings towards the Weasley family- being ever-inflamed by Daily Prophet articles and whisper campaigns- he had not been able to convince the Department of Education to grant it.  If Fred had not gone back to Hogwarts, the Ministry had planned to toss him in Azkaban on trumped up charges.  Albus had been trying to save the family from yet another tragedy- better the boy bee at Hogwarts and ale to eventually seen his twin during the Hols, than in prison and entirely cut off from his family.

Of course, the Headmaster hadn’t told any of the Weasleys that, they would have been much more receptive to him if he’d had.  But Albus had always had a terrible habit of making assumptions.)

Fred’s plan to be as disruptive as possible in order to be expelled had been hampered by the new, strict guidelines for behavior implemented by the Ministry and enforced by the Fudge toady, Dolores Umbridge.  Fred had been forced to abandon his plan in order to shield the younger students from the hateful Ministry bitch and he had apologized to George profusely when he had come home for Hols.  George had been steadfast in his support of Fred’s actions, however, and had sent Fred back to Hogwarts with the stern order to ‘give her hell, Freddie’.

At home, the three affected Weasleys were routinely butting heads with Percy, who was working for the Ministry.  It wasn’t even usually Percy’s fault, as the other three tended to needle him, make snide comments, and even outright attack him.  Percy tried to deal with it, tried to be a good brother, but eventually it became too much and the third-eldest child had left.

The eldest two boys had taken vacation time and come home to try to help, but that just seemed to make things worse as the three- particularly the two youngest- regularly vacillated between hero-worship and utter loathing.  It hurt the two eldest boys and eventually they had gone back to their jobs, because they could not see a way to help.  Arthur and Molly were forced to accept the money they sent back home as that year wore on and Arthur’s already paltry salary was halved.

It had been heartrending for Molly, who spent her days bouncing between extremes as she tried to be a good mother and fix her children’s problems, but the more she tried the more they pushed against her.  It was painful for Arthur to come home to, to see his children despondent or angry all the time and to see the weary bruises under Molly’s eyes and her ever-present, tear soaked handkerchief.

Arthur had been at his breaking point long before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named suddenly reappeared.

Despite the anger they harbored towards him, they had accepted the Headmaster’s invitation to take refuge at Hogwarts.  What else could they do?  They had three vulnerable children who could not defend themselves against magic at all.  Fred and George were happy to be reunited, but the younger two just fell further away from the family, and Ginny had gotten a disturbing sort of look in her eyes the longer she spent time around the people who had spent the better part of a year blaming her for You-Know-Who’s actions.  

(Snape had informed the re-convened Order of the Phoenix of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s ownership of the debacle.)

It had seemed bleak, hopeless.  The Prophecy that had been told to them by the Headmaster entirely defunct by the fact that Neville Longbottom had been one of the students who had been reduced to a Hedgewizard- that was a wizard who could uses Runes, Arthimanic Formulae, magical, enchanted items, and deal with magical plants- but was unable to wield a wand.  The Headmaster tried to convince the formidable Augusta Longbottom that Neville was still the Prophesized child, but both she and the others protested so vehemently that the Headmaster had been forced to subside or lose a considerable contingent of the Order.

The Battle of Hogwarts was to be their last stand, and Arthur had been prepared to die to preserve the last stronghold against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Death Eaters, but then the Vindice, (not that anyone on the battlefield had known that at the time), had appeared and things had changed drastically.

The war had been won, and under the new restructuring Arthur could now provide for his family properly, but the wounds from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s second rise were still fresh, raw, and angry on the Weasley family.  Despite being able to provide better for them, the family seemed to even closer to splitting at the seams.  With both of the twins at home since Fred had taken his OWLs Fred and George had calmed slightly, but Ginny and Ron were still angry and directionless.

Arthur and Molly had been utterly helpless to help them.  They had tried putting their children into nonmagical school, but either academic issues or behavioral issues caused them to need the Ministry to interfere and erase the existence of the youngest Weasleys from the school personnel’s minds.  They had the school books lying around, but neither of the elder Weasleys understood much of them and trying to get the youngest ones to use them and learn was _nigh impossible_.  George had picked them up and was trying to muddle through, but they were missing foundational information and were not sure where exactly to find it.

Then, one day when it was just another afternoon of yelling, sniping, arguing, and storming about in various stages of temper while Molly cried as she prepared lunch and Arthur held his face in his hands as he tried to think of a way to _fix things_ , there was a knock on the door.  (They had needed to adjust the Wards since three of their children now counted as nonmagical.  Whoever this was had apparently passed the Intent Wards.)

Arthur had stood and cautiously answered, his wand clutched tightly in his hand as he eyes the unexpected visitor warily.  “Can I help you gentlemen?”  He asked the sharply dressed young men on his door step.

“Chaos.  Arthur Weasley, I presume?”  The dark haired man with the fedora asked in a smooth baritone voice.

“Yes.”  Arthur replied, still wary and tense.

“Excellent.”  A smirk appeared on the stranger’s face.  “I am Reborn and my companion is Colonnello.  We have come to speak with you about a scholarship opportunity with the Rainbow Foundation.  May we come in?”

“Ah.”  Arthur stalled, flummoxed.  “I’m not sure-“

“The Foundation was created to assist those who were affected the second rise of Tommy boy, kora!”  The blonde man interjected cheerfully, causing Arthur’s brain to crash and for him to stare at the man in utter confusion, the thoughts in his head too loud and complex for him to process at the moment.  “We have all the information in our hands, and if you decline we’ll leave and never come back, kora!”

“So, really.”  The other man interjected mildly.  “What do you have to lose by hearing us out?”

Arthur opened the door wider and allowed them inside.

_Because they’re right_.  He thought as he showed them to the kitchen.  _What do I have to lose in hearing them out?_

Snapping out of his daydream Arthur looked down at the Rainbow Foundation Scholarship Contract for Ginny and knew that Fred, George, and Ron’s were underneath hers.  It was a boarding school in Italy, but it had the seal of approval from the Steward and he really liked their plans for his children’s education and healing.

Arthur picked up the papers and made his way to Gringotts.

He had need of their Contract Quills.

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	5. Chapter 5

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“I _totally_ don’t understand the point of this.”  Harry informed Xanxus as the other glowered heatedly at the rapidly retreating salesclerk.  Harry was standing in a fitting area in a high-end Italian store getting fitted for clothes, ‘befitting of his station’.  “The hell is wrong with jeans and a t-shirt?”  He whined as Xanxus continued to ignore him and glare.

Eventually Xanxus turned entirely unamused eye back towards his best friend.  “I realize that you’re all into traveling the world and being some sort of do-gooder Samaritan guru, but the first batches of people that were selected for the Rainbow Foundation’s Comprehensive Scholarship and Supplemental Endowments will be coming in starting tomorrow morning and as the Head of the Foundation you need to be there and be _properly attired_.”  He responded flatly, immovable even in the face of Harry’s extreme puppy eyes.

“Yes, you- and all the others- have said that, but I still don’t understand _why_.”  Harry moaned plaintively as he flopped onto one of the overstuffed chairs and glowered at his friend.  “Why do I have to be the Head of the Foundation?  Why do I have to go to these crappy functions and meet people?  Why can’t I just deputize you guys and let you deal with it.  I’m all about sharing power and shit and I don’t really want to be directly involved.”

Xanxus sighed deeply, tossed a discarded shirt at his friend and then growled.  “You’re the Head of the Foundation because you’re the heart of the operation, Bambi-“

“I never shoulda introduced you and Siri.”  Harry muttered petulantly, crossing his arms and sulking rather dramatically.

“- and even though you don’t really have a personal investment in these people, they need a rallying point.  A figure head.”  Xanxus continued smoothly.  “These people were let down by their government and then that government collapsed.  Some of them were _homeless_ before we tracked them down and told them about these opportunities; others were trapped in untenable situations and the Foundation has given them a way out.”  Xanxus directed a serious stare at Harry.  “I realize that you’d rather do all of this anonymously and shit- _because you’re all but a fucking saint_ \- but they need to have a focal point and goals to really make themselves accept this opportunity and run with it.” 

Harry exhaled gustily and his shoulders slumped in defeat.  “Reborn says that they’ve been let down and most of them are going into this bitter and angry.  And what, exactly, is stopping them from blaming me?”

“Exactly and public relations tactics.  People like having someone to blame, so we’re laying it all out for them because that Tommy-trash did most of the work for us.”  Xanxus agreed, glowering at the salesperson as they walked back to the duo, armed with another cart of fabric samples, designs, and pins, and a few moments later Harry was once again being measured, poked and prodded.  “However, having someone to blame only solves half the issue, which is why they need to see that you care- because you do, even if you’re not exactly personally invested in them- and what you want them to accomplish.  Well, what the Foundation wants to accomplish as a whole, so they will feel comfortable and motivated.  Eventually.  They’ve got therapy and shit planned for them to go through to work through their issues so we don’t end up with a bunch of psychopaths or something.” 

Seeing Harry’s still unconvinced glower, Xanxus huffed irritably and slouched further down into his chair, but continued to explain things to the younger teen.  “These people have been failed before so they need careful handling so we can help them succeed, so that our plans can succeed.  People need to feel needed and significant to really be motivated and happy.  That’s where you showing up and speaking to the in small groups comes into play.  They’ll feel connected to you and will be more apt to accept the scholarships as a hand-up as opposed to a hand-out.”

“I sort of get it.”  Harry said slowly after a few moments of tense silence.  “I just don’t want to face them really.  I kind of feel- I dunno, responsible for their conditions.”  Xanxus’ eyes narrowed and Harry rushed to continue.  “No, no.  I’ve been over this a thousand and three times with the others, but I still feel somewhat guilty and I just- don’t want to face them.”  Harry finished with a rather disgruntled look on his face.

“’Your excessive bleeding-heart guilt complex is something that you will always struggle with because you’re just that fucking nice.  Even though none of that shit was your fault it’ll always be somewhere in the back of your mind because that was the country that your parents hailed from, brat.  However, your bleeding heart do-gooder-ness is _why_ it is so important for you to be directly involved with things.”  Xanxus told him with a sympathetic but unyielding look on his face.

Xanxus’ brand of compassion was rather hardcore.

Not that Harry truly expected anything less from the man who had become something rather close to a brother over the past half-a-year.  Not that anyone who casually observed them realized that, as the two were constantly being asked if they were a ‘couple’.  Xanxus usually punched those people in the face or tried to make them _exceedingly_ uncomfortable.

Harry thought it was _hilarious_ and cheerfully aided Xanxus in confusing the hell out of people.  Harry himself had had a couple of semi-serious crushes in the past few months, now that his body was no longer under an extreme amounts of duress and therefore he was finally experiencing the full _joy_ that was male puberty.  Verde said that Harry was experiencing a rapidly progressing version as his body was sort of playing ‘catch up’, so there had been several ‘ _ohsweetTreeBeardwhatinElrond’ssnameishappeningtome_ ’ panic moments as his body changed from child to adolescent.

Xanxus mostly called him a _lucky little shit_ and laughed at him.

Harry’s brief mental-side trip ended and his shoulders slumped slightly in defeat- but only momentarily as he quickly straightened them again at the slightly distressed sound the salesperson let out.  “I get it, I get it.”  Harry told Xanxus, acknowledging his points and admitting defeat.  “But why do I have to wear fancy-schmancy clothes.” 

“Because you’re the Head of the Foundation.”  Xanxus told him, arching an eyebrow and silently daring Harry to complain further.  “Now stop complaining or I’ll make sure you have to wear a suit jacket too, Bambi.”

Harry pouted determinedly, but kept his mouth shut.

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The air was heavy with the tang of salt and sea, but the breeze allowed the smell and weight to be a pleasant weight instead of an oppressive one, hence the reason why all the windows were open at the moment.

It was also not _nearly_ unpleasant enough for Viper to sign off on the use of the central air system.  If the idiots could not use their Flames to make themselves comfortable, then there were a number of solar-powered fans available for them to use. 

Flame ineptitude and-or laziness was no excuse to _waste_ _money_.

Aria of the Giglio Nero had barely waited an hour after the Arcobaleno’s Sky had reluctantly agreed to the formation of the Rainbow Foundation to call her self-appointed little brother and offer her Famiglia’s cover companies as an avenue for the Foundation to acquire the property, personnel, and provide legitimate cover stories for their operations. 

The Foundation’s organizers would need to provide cover stories for their employees so as not to attract unwanted attention for the authorities, as the Foundation would need to be seen as a legitimate business, even under scrutiny under the likes of governments and INTERPOL-type organizations. 

Then came the task of forging a very nearly _ridiculous_ amount of documents, intricately fabricating credible backgrounds, and a host of other things for their future charges in order to cover the failings of the old magical governments as well as to protect the children who needed safeguarded from their former family or Famiglia.  This was due to their intention to take in both the young magicals whose future’s had been irreparably damaged as well as take in young Flame using children without being seen as a rising threat, brainwashing operation, or human trafficking cover operation.

It would have taken much, much longer than the two-and-a-half months they had been active had the Arcobaleno, collectively, not been angling towards this sort of thing since they had gotten their Sky back.  Aria, not being nearly as passively accepting as her mother had once been and being a fierce proponent for change was also being very proactive.  The Giglio Nero Nono had had a major hand in assisting in the organization of the Foundation, despite being perfectly content to not be the ‘Head’ of it.

Aria respected her brother’s rather whimsical nature.   Especially as he was still a teen and had only recently been relieved of the burden of the Sky Pacifier.  Harry’s entire life had been centered upon doing things before his time ran out, and it had not been long enough since the removal of that burden for that sense of urgency to entirely abate from his actions and plans.  Once he grew up a bit and realized how sort-of self-absorbed he was being when there were so many others who had needed him and this Foundation he would more than likely feel incredibly guilty. 

However when that happened, Aria would not allow that feeling to consume or control him- and neither would the Arcobaleno.

For all that he was being rather selfish with his rather short-sighted plans and immersion in his own wants and desires at the moment, Harry had more than earned that right in Aria and the Arcobaleno’s eyes.

Still, there were a great number of people who needed the things that Harry, the Arcobaleno, and Aria and her Famiglia could provide.  Therefore they were ensuring that Harry’s desires to _help those who needed it if it was within his power_ was being fulfilled while he was being a rather self-absorbed teenager for the first time in his short life.

That was why the Arcobaleno and Aria, along with a few hand-picked Advisors were pouring over the rotation rosters for the groups that would be meeting Harry and attending the Commencement Assembly the following Saturday, which would mark their official entrance into the Foundation.

“As we mentioned to Harry when we pitched the idea to him, we do not want to follow traditional approaches to Flame educations and conditioning.”  Colonnello explained from his place about halfway up the oval-shaped table, starting the hour-long last minute troubleshooting session. 

The table had inset little digital displays that were smaller scaled little monitors of what was on the larger display screen at the end of the room.  Considering that Verde was part of their group meant that they had the best technology possible, so each individual could interact with their touch-screen inset without affecting the main one- as only the presenter could do that.  They could even make notes and scribbles in the margins and then have the printer print off the musings for later perusal.

There were _definitely_ benefits to having Verde on their side.

After all the business had been discussed and the details ironed out as finely as they could be, the meeting was officially concluded.

Skull’s head met the table solidly.  “Are we finally done?”  He groaned miserably, rubbing at his temples even as he kept his head solidly connected to the table.  His voice was rather muffled, but his level of self-pity was readily apparent.  “Some of us have to give our not-so-adorable-anymore Sky his final grades and make sure he doesn’t sneak off before tomorrow.  Xanxus can only drag out clothes shopping for so long, you know.”

Verde patted the Cloud Arcobaleno on the back rather condescendingly.  “It’ll be alright.”

Skull tilted his head slightly and leveled a one-eyed, blazing purple glare on the scientist.  “I hate you.”  Skull informed him flatly.  “Living with a teenage boy who is rapidly going through the stages of puberty is a _trial_.”  Skull raised his head far enough off the table to prop his chin on his hands.  “You’re the scientist.  Shouldn’t you be the one living with him during this time in his life?”  The Cloud asked rather sourly.  “Observing and all that nonsense?”

“I am perfectly aware of the science behind the process of puberty.  His check-ups are sufficient to sate my academic curiosity.”  Verde replied calmly, straightening his stack of papers and rising from his seat while adjusting his glasses rather tellingly.  “Now if that is all….”  He trailed off meaningfully.

Skull growled and crossed his arms petulantly.  “Coward.”  He mumbled uncharitably.

“Yep, we’re done!”  Aria chirped, snatching up her things and quickly leading the charge out of the doors.

“Scaredy-cats.”  Skull muttered to empty room before solidly planting his face on the table’s surface once again.  “I miss cute, baby Harry.”  He muttered miserably to the table.  “How do I keep up with the rapid changes he’s going through?”

Not surprisingly, the table was entirely unhelpful.

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Harry did the meet-and-greets like he was supposed to, even though he was terribly uncomfortable and felt hopelessly awkward the entire time.  After that week of forced socialization, however, he dropped the bomb about his latest set of plans during the next week’s weekly dinner.

On Thursdays they all tried their hardest to have dinner together, and sometimes it was at the Giglio Nero Main House- whenever Aria could ambush her little brother and beg him to cook- but usually it was on the deck of the ship.

“So.”  Harry said as he set the desserts down with Skull’s assistance and re-seated himself.  “I’m thinking that I want to volunteer with the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies or a similar organization for a year or two.”

There was dead silence for a moment.

“What.”  Reborn purred dangerously.  “Did we say about you plotting without supervision?”

“I wasn’t plotting!  I was planning!”  Harry protested grouchily.

“I’m fining you this entire chocolate cake for that statement.”  Viper informed him rather irritably as she confiscated the triple-layer chocolate cake from the center of the table.

“Share, Viper.”  Lal input, equally as cross.

Harry threw his hands up in defeat.  “It wasn’t a plot!”

“Merely by _technical_ definition.”  Verde interjected suspiciously mildly.

“Harry, there is too much going on at the moment for any of us to be able to accompany you.”  Fon told the boy sympathetically.  “We have the Foundation duties and our regular duties to attend to at the moment.”

“Argh!”  Harry growled as he crossed his arms over his chest and sulked rather theatrically.

Xanxus nearly snorted his dessert up his nose.  “I’ll go.”

Everyone turned to look at the young Vongola.  “ _What_?”  Seemed to be the general consensus of everyone except Harry, who was looking at Xanxus with his head tilted to the side in concentrated consideration.

“Look, I’m fourth in line for the Vongola Decimo seat.”  Xanxus explained shortly.  “So I am most likely going to end up as security or even a part of the Varia- there’s been rumors about Tyr wanting to retire.   What better way to observe different countries, their inner workings, and the underworld’s reach than with a humanitarian organization?  I get to learn about that, the brat gets to do his bleeding-heart thing, and we’ll be able to watch each other’s backs.  It’s a win-win situation.”

The table broke out into muted murmurings, but surprisingly it was Skull who spoke up first.  “I think they should go.”  The Cloud held a hand up to forestall any protests.  “Look, we almost lost him, but Harry has spent the better part of the year with us being around him nearly constantly.  He’s growing from a teen into a young adult and we need to step back a bit and let that happen.”  The words were spoken in an even tone, but Skull looked might unhappy with them and himself.

The thing about Harry’s family, (it was just Harry, Xanxus, and the Arcobaleno that evening), was that they all thought a bit differently than a traditional family might.  They were Hitmen, soldiers, mercenaries, or just street rats who learned how to survive the hard way.  So as much as they did not want to let Harry go out into the world without them, they knew it needed to happen.  Honestly, Xanxus as Harry’s companion would be an incredible boon, as the young Vongola was a fierce fighter and unquestionably loyal in regards to his friendship with Harry.

So, while they did not like what they were hearing, they understood and were better able to accept it.

“Alright, we can agree on you doing this, with a few concessions.”  Viper told Harry and Xanxus sternly.  “The first condition being that you both carry emergency Portkeys.  While normally they would not work over such long distances, Harry can keep them charged and Verde had vastly improved Portkey abilities.”

“Reasonable enough.”  Harry told her, uncurling from his pout and settling more comfortably into his chair.

“Two trackers will be on you at all times, kora!”  Colonnello butted in sharply.  “One geared towards magic and the other more conventional methods.  Not all the crazies are gone, they just weren’t in Britain for the Battle.”

“Still reasonable.”  Xanxus told them, crossing his arms and tipping back his chair.

He knew better than to put his feet up on the table though, Lal was rather terrifying when she wanted to make a point clear.

“We’ll make identities for you, so that you can blend in with the crowds.”  Reborn told them with a smirk.  “Otherwise Xanxus’ name would put you on just about every international watch-list you could think of.”

Xanxus snorted in amusement.  “It’s all the ghost stories about the Iron fort.”  He drawled in a clearly amused tone.

“Indeed.”  Reborn’s dark eyes glinted with mirth.  “So you’ll need to go by aliases, but we’ll keep them pretty close to your real names so you’ll be sure to answer to them.”

“But!”  Skull butted in cheerfully.  “You guys will do your best to make it to a monthly dinner with all of us.  Let’s say, the third Wednesday of the month?”

“That would work well for me.”  Fon interjected calmly.  He’d mostly been observing the conversation, as he was exhausted at the moment.  His duties with the Triads were being rather time-consuming and physically taxing as there was some unrest in their usual areas of operation, so he was more than happy to be an observer so long as the others voiced his concerns.

“Weekly dinners were going to have to be pushed back even if you’d stayed in Italy.”  Viper told Harry sadly.  “With the summer upon us, most of us are knee-deep into recruiting season or we’re training new interns.  Even the Varia is not exempt from this, as we take in some of the less-stupid Mafia school graduates.”

“The CEDEF as well.”  Lal told them with a grimace.  “Massimo covers most of the dinner parties and we’re-playing-nice chats while Iemitsu handles our field teams.  However, they both are terrible at reconciling the intel from the two different branches and seeing the bigger picture.  They also tend to overlook things that don’t affect us directly at the moment and miss indications of Famiglia unrest or upheaval, so summer is really, really busy for me as I have to hold the company together and make sure the recruits are trained properly.”

Harry frowned and leaned his elbows on the table so he could rest his chin on his hands and gaze at Lal.  “Why aren’t you the Boss then?”  He asked, half confused, half curious.

“In the Mafia, Skies are pushed to be Bosses.”  Reborn explained.  “And, usually, they are the best at it because they usually have a knack for getting people- especially flame Active people- to work together.  Massimo and Iemitsu are both Flame Active and Skies, but they are, well.”  Reborn paused and tried to think of a way to delicately phrase what he wanted to say.

“Massimo would be much better as an emissary.”  Xanxus put forth in his usual blunt manner.  “He’s good at getting information and getting people to sit down and talk shit through.  Sawada, is actually a damn good field agent.  He makes excellent snap decisions in the heat of the moment and can roll with the flow of an operation better than just about anyone else I’ve ever seen, even the Old Man.”  The red-eyed teen let his chair fall forward and he casually stretched out his legs and rested his hands behind his head, on the top of the back of his chair.  “The problem is, being in charge of something like the CEDEF takes someone who can do both.  Enrico would make a great CEDEF Boss, but he and my Old Man had that fight and now he’s off maintaining _Nonna’s_ network- which would be an incredible boon to the CEDEF if the Old Man would put Enrico in charge.”

The teen sighed heavily and stretched out a little further.  “The problem is that Iemitsu is the Old Man’s favorite, so the Old Man sees his field work as proof that he makes a good, overall, Boss.  From my Old Man’s point of view, Massimo isn’t strong enough to be a Boss on his own, but giving Iemitsu the CEDEF over both of his eldest sons would send all the wrong vibes out to the other Famiglia and be deeply offensive to both Enrico and Massimo.”

“Your family.”  Harry told his friend dryly.  “Would be so much happier if you all just sat down and had a good, long heart-to-heart.”

“Probably.”  Xanxus retorted with a wry grin.  “But the Old Man doesn’t like to admit when he’d wrong or that he plays favorites and the rest of us aren’t much better.  The bottom line is, just because Skies make great Bosses doesn’t mean they make great overall Bosses.”

“You know.”  Lal said, giving Xanxus a rather long, searching look.  “I’ve never really thought of things in that context before but you’re right.”  She glanced around at everyone else and unconsciously snuggled a bit closer to Colonnello, who had casually thrown an arm over the back of her chair at some point.

Colonnello winked at Harry and mouthed, “ _Thank you.”_   Meanwhile Verde made a soft sound of disgruntlement and slipped a smirking Viper some legal tender.

“Iemitsu in the field is an asset while Iemitsu in the office is a nuisance.  Massimo in a conference room with nearly hostile Mafioso can come out as the victor with the other guys granting us concessions but put him in the field and he’s a bumbling idiot.  If Enrico could tie them together…..”  Lal trailed off thoughtfully, her brow furrowing as her mind whirled with the possibilities.

Harry smiled happily as Xanxus, Lal, and Reborn started plotting, the others chiming in here and there to argue a point or share their thoughts on matters.

_If only your Old Man could see you like this, Xan.  Then maybe he’d understand that you’re so much more than his problem child._

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Aria grinned as she glimpsed a new possible future.  _I really love that boy, he changes so much for the better just by being himself_.  She thought as she rested a hand on her flat stomach.  She hadn’t told anyone just yet, as Gamma was out in the field at the moment, but she was expecting.

It was actually a bit of a surprise, as she knew from her parallel selves that she usually became pregnant much closer to the end of her life.  It was a bit exciting, though, as she had not been able to divine whether her child was going to be born a girl or a boy.

_If I have a girl, should I still name her Yuni?_   Aria pondered as she watched the waters from the sea lick at the shoreline from her perch on her private balcony.  _Yuni is always kind and gentle, but I am always the Sky Arcobaleno in those worlds, and here I am not.  So should I still name her Yuni or make a break from my other selves?_

Aria’s Mare Ring gleamed, but with her never inheriting the Sky Arcobaleno Curse as well as little her brother’s wedding gift she was able to pick and choose when she used the Sky Mare Ring.  Before her little brother’s gift she had been able to mostly block out the pull of the Ring, but whenever she became upset, wounded, or sometimes asleep or unconscious she would tap into the Ring’s ability to peer into other worlds which allowed the other versions of her to peer into her world.  It might be selfish of her, but Aria wanted to keep her world to herself.  She had her mother’s gift of Foresight, and that was plenty enough power for her to make a difference!  She did _not_ need to know what the Aria three worlds over was doing, she had her own life to live!

The door to her suite opened and she felt Gamma’s presence before he entered her sight.  “Gamma!”  She called happily as she rose to greet him.  “You’re back!”

“I’m home, Aria darling.”  Her blonde husband replied, his eyes bright with tender affection for her as he shrugged off his jacket and came forward to sweep her up into his arms.  “I missed you.”  He murmured into her hair, gentle hands running over her back, hips, and sides as if checking to ensure she was whole and unharmed.

_I love this man._   She thought happily as she exhaled a content, blissful breath into the curve of his neck, prompting him to chuckle which then sent delicious vibrations rumbling through his chest and caused her to smile against him.  Reluctantly she pulled back  far enough to look into his eyes as she thought about how close she had come to never being able to have moments like these with her beloved.  It made her ache for all the other versions of her even as she was terribly, selfishly glad for the existence of Harry James Potter and his special brand of brilliant.

“Aria?”  Gamma asked concernedly, lightly resting his left hand at her waist and using the other to gently cup her cheek.  “Is everything alright, darling?”

Aria’s grin was bright, with both mischief and affection, as she impishly grabbed the hand at her waist and laced their fingers together before gently moving their now-linked hands to rest on her lower abdomen.  “Gamma, you’re going to be a father.  I’m pregnant.”

Gamma’s mouth fall open slightly and a flush crept up his neck onto his face as he glanced from her face to their joined hands and back to her face several time in rapid succession, then all of the color abruptly disappeared from his face and he wobbled a little before falling backwards in a dead faint.

Aria’s bright, lively laughter echoed through their suite as she clutched at her middle and sank down to the floor in her mirth, especially after she caught another look at his positively bamboozled face.  _That_ she thought as she tried to calm herself down, thankful that she’d had the foresight to maneuver him in front of one of her overstuffed chairs.  _Was even funnier than I thought it would be.  Now to see if I can get to my camera and get a picture taken before he wakes up._

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	6. Eldest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Uhhh….sorry?
> 
> Also, please keep in mind that character POVs are my best attempt to think from the character's perspective. People have personal bias and uncharitable thoughts- sometimes even politically incorrect ones.
> 
> So keep that in mind, yeah?
> 
> Also- a thousand, sincere apologies to anyone I haven't replied to who has commented on my stories!! I got behind- Warcraft: Legion is pretty awesome, but time consuming!- and I just don't know where to begin to get caught up!
> 
> I do greatly appreciate comments and reader's insight or thoughts! Really! They make my whole day! So please don't think that I'm taking them for granted or that I feel 'entitled' to them! I really appreciate and have so much love for everyone who bothers to read my works,let alone comment/leave kudos/follow/favorite so please know that every single one of you are cherished!

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 _And that's pretty much my cue._ Enrico supposed rather gleefully as Iemitsu whipped out a bundle of photos of his 'cute little tuna fish!' and started rambling on about the latest adventure his offspring had gone on. _As if the man ever goes home to see the brat in person_. The eldest son of Timoteo Vongola thought rather disdainfully as he gestured to his Mist to _pay attention_ so that Toscano could be poised to get good reactions shots, before signaling his father for permission to speak, having waited for everyone else who had been party to the review- and their entourages- to vacate the conference room.

Enrico settled back to wait for his father to put a stop to Iemitsu's babbling; why his father indulged the idiot so often, Enrico would never understand. Couldn't, even. Father had never, _ever_ been _half_ as indulgent to _any_ of the Vongola brothers as he consistently was to his External Advisor.

The whole reason Enrico had deigned to come to the bi-annual 'security review' was to deliver this particular bit of news, after all. Otherwise Enrico wouldn't be willingly in the same postal code as his father. Let alone in one of Iemitsu's garishly decorated conference rooms- Enrico _knew_ that Massimo had better taste than this!

The lighting was too bright, there was far too much clutter, and the way a person was forced to sit was both uncomfortable and left them vulnerable. The colors were eye-searing. And that was _all of them_ , not just a few brighter accents to spruce up the place. The Guardians were squished up in an awkward corner, save for Enrico's Toscano and Nono's Ganauche, who were guarding by the door.

Massimo himself was absent, out with a nasty summer cold that Enrico had zero desire to catch. Then again, Gucci had always been the sickly one- the nickname being a byproduct of Massimo's passion for interior decorating and design. Those two things being the younger Vongola's life's purpose before their father had gone completely off the rails in terms of sense and sensibility!

Since he had been old enough to reach the crayons in his nursery, Massimo had been matching colors and pushing his play equipment around to better suit his sense of style- he would _never_ have put together a room this horrid! Not even as a toddler! His enthusiasm- and unholy natural talent, to be entirely honest- was how Massimo had earned the nickname 'Gucci', though only those truly close to him- like his brothers and his sole Guardian- used it nowadays.

Massimo had even gone to school for interior design! He had earned his own admission into a prestigious program, nearly entirely on his own merit. The Vongola money had helped in terms of tuition and supplies, of course, but the university was located on neutral ground as it was within twenty-five kilometers of Vatican City, and notorious for their strict adherence to the philosophy of 'talent before favoritism'.

Yet, despite the good it did for Vongola's image- and it had done a lot of that!- and the dividends that Massimo being an accredited, accomplished designer would only add, Enrico's brother had been unable to graduate- due to father's _senseless_ approval of the previous CEDEF Boss' retirement.

Well, Boss Amigligo's retirement was not the senseless part- the man had faithfully served the Vongola since a week into Ottava's reign, after all- it was the Vongola Nono's refusal to hand the CEDEF over to Enrico that had caused the breakdown between father and son. The snub made Enrico positively _furious_ with his old man- because it was Nono's refusal to make Enrico the CEDEF Boss that had forced Massimo to have to leave school!

There had been no need for it, either! Well, in Enrico's opinion- which was shared by most others who were 'in the know' about the decision. No matter the pressure or gold-plated reasoning presented to him on the matter, however, Timoteo _utterly refused_ to make Enrico the CEDEF Boss. And as the eldest Enrico had _pushed_ for it.

 _Hard_.

Oh, Timoteo had given some half-assed reasoning about 'appearances' and other shit, but Enrico _knew_ it had to do with him taking over _Nonna's_ network and point-blank refusing to introduce Iemitsu to the various contacts, let alone show the man the drop points and the cover businesses.

However, Enrico being refused the CEDEF Boss position could be reasoned out as him being the Vongola heir, so to keep up appearances- and to prevent internal strife or rumors of weak points popping up- Massimo had been pulled from school and forced to be 'Assistant Director' to Iemitsu's 'Executive Director'.

It made Enrico want to smash things- like Iemitsu's smug face- whenever he saw Massimo and noted how his usually irrepressibly cheerful eldest younger brother was getting more and more miserable as time went by.

Massimo had never been an athletic type, but he had always been a healthy weight. A little on the 'I despise the gym' side, but cheerful and affable enough it had only added to his charm. Even while in school and bouncing between workrooms and the labs, Massimo had stayed within a reasonable weight class; even though he tended to eat pre-made, quick, junk and only made it to the gym whenever Enrico and Xanxus or Federico and Xanxus showed up to drag him away from his projects.

Since his withdrawal from school and his 'demotion', however, Massimo had progressively gotten heavier as he sat inside the CEDEF offices and tried to sift through the reports that _Iemitsu wasn't fucking reading_ or going to power lunches- or dinners- to keep old allies satisfied in the wake of Iemitsu's careless, senseless encroachment into non-Vongola territories. It wasn't a pleasant- _"I'm having way too much fun and I have no time to spare!_ _Let me live!_ "- sort of weight gain, but a broken-spirit, 'drowning in comfort food because my life's purpose is gone and there's no way out' sort of weight gain and it made both Enrico and Federico terribly worried about their middle brother. Xanxus was worried as well, but he barely ever got to see Massimo nowadays because Iemitsu not-so-secretly loathed the kid and could be a petty, vindictive _asshole_ if one of three eldest Vongola brothers wasn't; around to put a stop to his _bullshit_.

Naturally, father and the staff of the Iron Fort always seemed to overlook the part about Iemitsu constantly baiting Xanxus and jumped straight on Xanxus' inevitable temper control episode.

 _Given that Father doesn't even care enough to notice one of his sons wasting away, it shouldn't surprise me as much as it does._ Enrico thought, a bitter edge to his smile as he not-so-patiently waited for Iemitsu to _stop fucking prattling on_ and for Nono to _finally_ address Enrico's indication for acknowledgement. _But it makes me so furious I want to burn it_ all _down, if only to Iemitsu get his fucking due._

Then there was the situation with Fede…

Federico, the youngest of them save for Xanxus, was currently still in school- and his baby brother was going to _stay_ there if Enrico had anything to say about things.

Fede had wanted to be a doctor his _entire life_!

The kid was only eighteen and already in his third year of pre-med, even with all the extra responsibilities of learning how to manage the Famiglia and his training with tutors in 'nontraditional' education. Federico had worked his _ass_ off to get where he was- just like Massimo had. And Enrico _refused_ to allow history to repeat itself!

That was why, using his resources _Nonna's_ heir, _Enrico_ was the one keeping most of the assassination, seduction, and law enforcement trolling attempts away from Fede, despite Enrico's doing so being a _major_ breach of Vongola protocol. Enrico didn't rightly care if his father found out and got pissy, though, because there were holes the size of _Rome_ in the Vongola's security procedures; thanks in no small part to the ineffectiveness of the CEDEF under Iemitsu's rule, despite Massimo's best attempts to keep things 'business as usual'.

Timoteo _finally_ cut his Advisor off and acknowledged the silently seething Enrico.

Oh, yes. Enrico was going to _enjoy_ this.

"Now that I have your attention." Enrico drawled contemptuously, relishing the syllables as they rolled off of his tongue. "I have something important to tell you, Father."

"Oh?" Timoteo glanced up at his eldest son in guarded curiosity.

Iemitsu sent Enrico a rather sharp look as well, gathering up the pictures and replacing them inside his suit pocket.

"Yes." Enrico continued, fighting to keep the evil smirk he was feeling off of his deliberately polite face. "Xanxus is going to be accompanying the Sky Arcobaleno's little brother for the next year or two."

"Oh?" Timoteo's eyebrows rose in honest surprise and his Guardians shifted uncomfortably.

Iemitsu piped up before Enrico could continue. "Is that such a good idea? Xanxus' temper-"

"My _baby brother's_ temper is _none_ of your concern, Iemitsu." Enrico growled dangerously, his hands curling into fists and his Flames twisting through him in agitation. Iemitsu's tendency to treat Xanxus as one would usually treat a rabid wild animal was one of the major points of contention between the two men. Iemitsu was actually just a year younger than Enrico, so they had always been fiercely competitive for Nono's attention. Enrico's eyes cut to his father, silently daring the man to make a stupid comment.

Fortunately for the integrity of the incredibly ugly table, Timoteo stayed quiet.

"As I was saying." Enrico gritted out through his clenched teeth. "Xan will be accompanying Harry of the Giglio Nero as the boy travels the world with Habitat For Humanity. They are currently undergoing a twelve week training course that will grant them certifications in Search and Rescue operations, allowing them to work with SAR operations in between HFH projects. According to the Giglio Nero _Nona_ the boys are receiving training from retired military personnel who are certified to do said training and are getting hands-on experience. Some Mist misdirection was used on their paperwork- Xanxus' paperwork shows him to be twenty, while Harry's paperwork shows him to be an emancipated minor of sixteen, though Xanxus is listed as his 'guardian' in the even he should require one. Both boys are also going to be learning to fly helicopters, though they will likely need at least another year before they can even begin to consider gaining their certifications, as they need to do their flight hours here."

"Can this…Harry do his flight training here?" Iemitsu asked rather nosily.

"Harry holds dual citizenship. He is a citizen of both the United Kingdom and _Italia_." Enrico spat back with a toothy smile that was anything but kind. Iemitsu had said 'Harry' with the same inflection he usually reserved for 'Xanxus' which was about three shades colder tha the tone the idiot used against enemies and _it pissed Enrico off something fierce_.

"And Xanxus agreed to this?" Timoteo asked rather skeptically.

"Xanxus volunteered." Enrico informed the old man rather smugly, a light wave of reassurance from Toscano allowing him to firmly clamp down on his Flames and boiling temper. "He's become quite good friends with Harry since the Giglio Nero wedding and so when Harry presented the idea to his sister, Xanxus volunteered to go in place of one of the Giglio Nero Nona's people."

"And she allowed this?"

The only reason Enrico was bothering to rein in his temper was that his father looked honestly hopeful and interested by this point. "Yes. She informed me- in a phone call, once Xanxus had left- that she is quite pleased at the friendship and she hopes that the boys- and I quote- "have lots of fun traipsing around the world together"."

"Hm." Timoteo said, a small, relieved smile curling at his lips. "Very well then. Xanxus has finished school and though he is quite intelligent he has never voiced a desire to continue his education. This should be quite the eye-opening, world shaping experience for him. Please inform _Nona_ Nero that updates would be appreciated."

"Of course, Father." Enrico, satisfied and wanting to escape before anything else was said- likely by Iemitsu- that might cause a fight, rose from his uncomfortable chair smoothly. "By your leave?"

"Yes, I do believe we're done here." Timoteo agreed, also rising, causing the rest of the room to spring into action.

"Did you get those shots?" Enrico murmured to Toscano as they reached the garage and swiftly entered their shiny black car.

"Oh, I'm sure I got some _really_ great ones, Boss." Toscano grinned- shark-like and rather wicked- at his Boss as he put the car in gear and set about maneuvering around the garage. "Iemitsu's face when you said 'Habitat For Humanity' for one."

Enrico threw his head back and laughed.

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Harry and Xanxus meandered over to a picnic table, exchanging tired, harassed smiles with their fellow aid workers along the way.

"Well, brat." Xanxus grunted as he slapped his paper plate down on the table and all but collapsed into his seat. "Where are we going from here?"

Harry- who had also sat down, if not with far more grace- gave his best friend a wry smirk. "I'm not sure, exactly."

They fell into an easy sort of silence as they both began to eat their well-earned meal, absently thanking another aid worker who came by to drop off a couple of blessedly cold bottles of water.

Well, it wasn't really _silent_ silence.

All around them, their fellow aid workers were talking and laughing or whispering and consoling each other. It used to really bother Harry- and it still did- but after nearly two years on the move from disaster to disaster, with far fewer breaks for his Habitat work than he originally had anticipated, he had learned to let the noise roll over him instead of through him.

In the past two years he and Xanxus had gotten their helicopter licenses, completed their Search and Rescue training, and had even become decent enough to qualify as Journeymen Electricians, Carpenters, and Plumbers. Harry had been sort of surprised to learn that such archaic-sounding titles still existed, but they did and both Harry and Xanxus now held permits that would let them work a number of trades just about anywhere.

Building houses, schools, and other things had been the highlights of the journey, had been _amazing_. Harry had routinely laughed himself silly at Xanxus' expression- once word had gotten out about Xanxus' knack for planning escape routes or safe rooms- and their Project Foremen would whisk him away to assist the engineers shortly after they arrived at a new worksite.

It had been vindicating, though. To see Xanxus' confidence rise as he learned to be in charge of people who could work around his temper and appreciate his genius. It made him a bit mellower, less inclined to drink every drop of liquor on site, and helped Xanxus learn to deal with being in power without it going to his head.

Harry was damn proud of Xanxus and the steps he had taken to better himself on their world-wide adventure. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to, and, really, anything Xanxus put his mind to he excelled at.

That was their Habitat work in a nutshell. Helping people help themselves and ending up learning more than a fair bit about himself along the way.

The disasters- well, Harry had learned a lot about how advanced technology- especially in medicine and power supply- helped saved lives, seen some truly inspirational people do _amazing_ things in trying to help others and had helped reunite families after they had been torn apart by tornadoes or floods.

Then again, Harry had also seen the toll technology and industrialization was taking on the environment and the little man. And for every act of selfless mercy he had seen at least five situations that had made his very soul sick. He had been wept on when someone had discovered that they were the only one who made it out alive, and had buried more than a fair few of his charges who had decided they didn't have the courage to face life anymore in the wake of such a realization.

"I think." Harry said after swallowing his bite of food and washing it down with some clean water. "That I'm just about ready to head home."

Xanxus grunted noncommittally as he tore into his own bottle of water.

"I mean-" Harry limply waved a hand around to indicate their situation. "-I believe in what we've been doing. In what we've built." Harry sighed heavily, slouching and picking at the remainders of his meal. "It's just- I don't think this is the best way for me to help."

"You want to build clean, next gen tech." Xanxus informed his friend with a wry grin. "Fucking bleeding heart do-gooder."

"Paranoid, suspicious anti-hero." Harry shot back with a small amount of heat, grinning mischievously when Xanxus growled at him.

"Fucking delusional, you are." Xanxus replied after an impromptu staring contest.

Which Harry _totally_ won, mind you.

"Whatever Yoda."

"I prefer the Sith."

"You _would,_ anti-hero."

"Fucking brat!" Xanxus roared, taking a swipe at Harry, who only tipped back out of range and laughed like a maniac.

"I won!" He called to the curious onlookers, most of whom were unused to their antics. "Paul, make note of my victory!"

A deep voice from the crowd piped up with a snarky. "Yeah, you two are tied now, right?"

"Mind your own fucking business, asshole!" Xanxus shot at the cheeky bugger, who merely made a kissy face and cheerfully flipped Xanxus off.

It took a couple of minutes, but soon enough the old hands had filled the new ones in about Xanxus and Harry's rather hilarious, mostly-play fighting and everyone went back to their meals, cheered by the small exchange.

"Fucking unbelievable." Xanxus muttered under his breath, finishing off his food without ceremony before tossing back the rest of his water.

"I do what I must." Harr informed his friend primly, deciding to push his uneaten food over to towards his disposal- aka Xanxus- and finishing off his own bottle of water. "It's just." Harry toyed with his empty bottle, idly staring at the few drops that remained trapped inside the plastic. "I want to do more to help. Not only the people, but the environment. And-" Harry sighed heavily and tossed his bottle into their trash pile, peering up at Xanxus with weary, troubled green eyes. "-and I think we've learned a lot, you know? But I haven't been able to see my family in _months_ , and from what Eric has passed on to you, things back home have taken a turn for the worst and I just-" Harry broke himself off with a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his shaggy hair in agitation. "I just feel like it's time to go home."

Xanxus pushed himself to his feet and grunted before swiping up all their trash and heading for the exit. "I didn't need a fucking dissertation, trash." He tossed over his shoulder as he tipped the contents of his hands into a bin. "I just needed a heading."

Harry let out a short, bright bark of laughter as he hopped up and bounced over to his friend. "All aboard?" He asked his friend amusedly, digging his elbow into Xanxus' side.

Xanxus knocked the elbow aside and easily trapped Harry's wayward appendage against him. "Let's roll." He affirmed with no small amount of humor. "Are we surprising Enrico or Aria?"

"Aria." Harry grunted as he tried to wiggle out of Xanxus' firm grip. "Yuni's first birthday is in a couple weeks! We could sneak back in and then surprise everyone at the party!"

"Hmph." Xanxus grunted as their reached their tent and ducked inside- it was one of those rounded, mass produced affairs, with a zipper front opening- heading for his Flame-sealed gear. "If we leave soon, we'd have enough time to swing back up to the States and pick up a couple of those 'Precious Moments' figures that Aria- and the others; woman infected others with her strange mania- are so fucking fascinated with. You never should have picked on up while we were out there for that flood last year. She's gotten fucking _obsessed_."

"Oooh!" Harry perked up with bright eyes. "That's an _awesome_ idea! Let's do it!"

Xanxus finished retrieving their phone and gestured towards the door. "We're fucking lucky we're in Iran, brat. And not back in the worst of the disaster zone that is fucking Ardabil. If we hike up that hill over there-" Xanxus pointed towards a fairly sizable hill that was at least a half-mile away, once they were both outside. "- our Flames should be able to boost the signal enough for the satellites to pick it up."

"We're going to have to hurry, though" Harry shivered as he huddled further into his jacket. "It's supposed to sleet and spit snow again tonight, and we don't want to be caught out when _that_ shit starts coming down."

"Well, let's get a move on, then!"

"Waitin' on you, old timer."

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"Well, well, well. Would you look at what the cat dragged in." Enrico drawled teasingly as grinned down at his glaring brother and Harry Nero with no small amount of glee.

Xanxus glared up at him with familiar wine-red eyes. Though Enrico was gratified to note that his brother stood straighter- a predator secure in his place instead of a lone wolf ready to lash out at anyone who looked at them wrong. Xanxus' hair was still a mess of inky black, half-curly, half-straight strands that hovered between his shoulder blades, still held the familiar assortment of feathers- though they did look new. The brat still rocked more leather than strictly advisable- pants, boots, jacket- and his dress shirt was still halfway unbuttoned and untucked, but Xanxus seemed restrained; calmer.

 _No that's not entirely right._ Enrico corrected himself as he peered at bit more intently at his youngest brother. _Not calmer, per se, but aged. Matured._ Enrico's lips curled into a sharp, pleased smirk as his brother stomped through the entrance hall and up the split staircase to Enrico's position.

Enrico mostly ignored Xanxus' irritated tirade as he reached over and wrapped his brother in a tight hug. One Xanxus returned just as fiercely after the obligatory escape squirming.

As he glanced past Xanxus- little shrimp was taller as Enrico now, and Enrico was just a hair shorter than Fede, the tallest of them!- he met the amused green gaze of Harry Nero.

Smaller than Xanxus' brawler-yet-lean build, his littlest's brother best friend- and no doubt battle-brother- had hair as dark messy as Xanxus' own, though it was mostly tied back, so Enrico wasn't sure of its exact length. The other teen wore a well-worn and rather ill-fitting leather jacket with strange patches on it- an heirloom, perhaps- though the kid did have the decency to _not_ wear _leather_ _trousers_. The somewhat worn shirt that was worn underneath the leather jacket slightly offended Enrico's sense of taste, and the boots were scuffed up enough that Enrico twitched a little bit, but more than all of the superficial quirks were the eyes.

And the Flames. Oh, the Flames.

And- oh. _Ohhh_. Now, _that_ was _interesting_.

"We-" Enrico cheerfully informed them as he finally released Xanxus and let his brother regain his personal space. "-have _much_ to discuss."

The teens' razor sharp smiles were thrilling, but the brief burst of Flames that came from them were telling; they let Enrico know that they had gotten his actual message, even a world and seven natural disasters away from the homefront.

 _Finally_. Enrico thought as he turned and gestured them deeper into the house, knowing full well Xanxus would rather handle his own luggage than hand it off to someone he didn't personally know. _Allies_. Enrico forced himself to not laugh, because really-

_They aren't going to know what hit them. We're coming, Massimo, Fede. Just hold on a little bit longer._

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End file.
